Backwards
by Snoot37
Summary: I did not like how Endgame ended. Steve leaving everyone behind, never looking back when Thor and Tony got to have conversations with their loved ones but return didn't make sense. After 2 movies of setting Sharon Carter up as the love interest, & 2 seasons of Agent Carter showing Peggy moving on, it just didn't seem right. This story fixes that. Steve/Peggy, eventual Steve/Sharon.
1. Chapter 1

**There are many things about Avengers: Endgame that are likable, and of course plenty not to like, but one of the things that I like the most was how both Tony and Thor were able to go back in time, even to an alternative timeline, and get some kind of closure from the parent who died suddenly in their lives. To a certain extent, it could be argued that a similar dynamic existed between Steve and Peggy in that he exited her life very suddenly, and although he got some time with her years later as she was dying, we all know that's not the same, especially when someone has Alzheimer's. It doesn't really make sense that both Tony and Thor would be content with moving on with their lives after the events of Infinity War, and yet somehow Steve, who had nearly 10 years to adjust to the 21st-century out after being found in the ice, making friends and forming a family, possibly even dating someone new, was spent 30 seconds staring at Peggy in the 1970s and decided it was worth bugging out of the primary timeline for an alternative one. Let us not forget, Dr. Strange said that there was only one out of over 4 million alternative timelines in which the Avengers win, meaning that the primary timeline, the one in which they did win, was the only one that was known to have been righted in the end. Any other alternative timeline, including the ones that Tony and Thor and Steve would later visit, were going to be ended by Thanos. It doesn't make sense that Steve would spend so much time in the movie talking about moving on and building a new life, ignoring Peggy who told him to do the same in Winter Soldier, to go back permanently to a timeline that he knew would eventually end at Thanos' hands. According to the directors, we are to believe that Steve spent 80 years in this alternative timeline, disrupting Peggy's story arc with whoever she married and had kids with, retroactively saying it was Steve all along, and then after she died and presumably right before Thanos snapped his fingers in that timeline, he took the shield from his still ice incased form, and jumped back to the primary timeline, now an old man, to give the shield to Sam. That just doesn't make sense. What would have made more sense was that, like Tony and Thor, Steve was able to get closure with Peggy when she was still young and whole, and then returned back to the present timeline where he belongs. The story is an attempt to fix that. Enjoy.  
**  
The correct ending

Bucky knew. From his hug and his words before Steve stepped on the platform, it was evident that his oldest friend definitely knew what Steve's plans had been. It was a testament to the kinds of friends that they had been, that Bucky knew better than to try and talk him out of it, maybe even give him away before they sent him back to put the stones back where they belonged, which would have resulted in someone else going back. But instead of stopping him, his friend had let him go. Maybe it was the knowledge that Steve would not be altering their pasts by doing what he planned to do, but instead needing to make choices for his own happiness that he otherwise would not have had a chance to do without the time travel and Prym particles.

Steve wasn't entirely sure at what point the decision was finalized in his mind. He thought he had come to terms with never being able to see Peggy again following the Decimation, especially since the Decimation had also taken Sharon, with whom he had been trying to form a budding relationship, but his fugitive status for two years had kept them apart more than together, and her sudden disappearance with half of the life in the universe had left him bereft of ever trying to find companionship again. He tried not to focus on how he was being something of a hypocrite, urging those in his support group to move on when he himself, having thought he had, had only to see Peggy for 30 seconds during his trip to the 1970s, realized that he had the ability to travel through time to an alternate timeline where he could be with her, and decided that this would be his decision within only a week. He briefly thought about Sharon, and his heart twisted a bit. He knew there was potential in a future with her, for she had returned from the Decimation as everyone else had, and had briefly contacted him to say that she was moving in with her cousins, Peggy's children, at their estate in Virginia because apparently in the previous five years, her apartment had been rented out to someone else. She had encouraged him to look her up if he got the chance, and he had not replied. He hoped that whatever became of him after this endeavor involved someone telling her that he had been simply lost in the time travel incident. He knew it would probably upset her, but he truly believed that she was probably better off without him, finding someone else born around the same time she had been, and not to deal with 100-year-old man out of time who couldn't get his issues straight.

And so, his decision made, and telling no one, he had carefully straightened his room and organized his belongings, tied up whatever loose ends he could do in a week following the defeat of Thanos, and had taken the stones and stepped on the platform. He always felt a little nauseous making the time jump, for as some of the others seem to enjoy flying through the quantum realm, he never quite got over the disorientation, even though he was a man who frequently jumped out of planes without a parachute, landing on his shield in the middle of an enemy compound. He wasn't sure why the two would be so different but apparently they were. The quantum GPS that Tony Stark had invented that allowed them to pop into any timeline at any specific time worked like a charm to bring him right to the point where all of his friends had gathered the infinity stones from past alternate timelines. Some of these trips were even a little amusing. Thor's mother Frigga was actually waiting from him around the corner from where she had had her conversation with time traveling Thor, from her perception only a minute or two before. Steve had calmly handed her the stone and she had smiled, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away, to what Steve would know would eventually be her own death. He snuck back into the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, deftly dodging Howard and Tony Stark having their conversation, himself sneaking out of Peggy's office, to return the stone that Tony had gathered. Returning the one he had taken from himself at the battle of New York prove trickier, since now the Hydra guys had their ears perked up from the oddity of the situation, and he had been obliged to take out two of them in order to slip the stone back into the transport van where it would have eventually ended up. He didn't have to do much on Vormier, as soon as he materialized on the cliff, a familiar evil cackle had said "Hello again, Captain," and the stone had vanished from his hands. He had bugged out of there before he had even realized he had heard the Red Skull's voice. Once he was done returning all of the stones, the protocol had been for him to return his GPS quantum to the date and time where he had left the remaining Avengers behind, but instead, he pointed it back to another timeline, one that none of them had visited, and set the date for two years after he had crashed the Valkyrie bomber. He set the location at his mother's old apartment in Brooklyn, which he knew would be empty, and found himself materialized they are just as expected.

What followed next would be a bit trickier. He had not allowed himself to bring many items from the future, lest he disrupt the timeline he found himself in, but he had managed to dig up some money that had been printed and minted in the 1930s and 40s to bring with him to use for currency, some ways to disguise his appearance, less risk being recognized, and the one bit of technology that he allowed himself besides his suit, was his cell phone and the charger which was loaded with pictures and videos of his friends from the 21st-century. He knew it was a risk bringing it, but if he was honest with himself, he rather regretted not telling them all goodbye, telling them what he intended, and he didn't want their faces to completely fade from his memory over the years he planned to spend in this timeline. He had taken off the quantum suit and had carefully retracted it. He was going to have to hide it in a very secure location, which he had not decided upon yet, and he also had to come up with either a story to tell Peggy, or a way to tell her the truth. He had no idea what her reaction was going to be either way. He was obviously a few years older than the last time she had seen him, which in her perception had only been a few years prior, so he was going to have to explain that anyway. He figured some version of the truth was probably best, though he debated over which details to tell her. He hid out in the apartment for another week getting his bearings and re-familiarizing himself with the 1940s which, if he were honest, seemed a little strange to him now after nearly a decade in the 21st-century. Ironic, he thought to himself, that he was once again a man out of time having returned to the time in which he thought he belonged.

Contacting her proved to be a little bit more difficult than he envisioned. It's not like they had cell phones or LinkdIn in the 1940s, which he admitted would make things a little bit easier. He actually had to take a minute to relearn how to use a dial phone again. And even when he had remembered how to do it, he ended up hanging up the receiver a few times before trying to find her number through the operator. Would calling her be affective or should he just show up? After thinking about it, he realize that calling her would probably not be the best. For one thing, there were still phone operators in this time who listened in on conversations. And as far as the world knew, Captain America was dead. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he preferred it that way. Letting everyone know that he had survived in some way would likely obligate him to take up the mantle of Captain America once again in this time period, which would definitely disrupt the timeline, perhaps so severely that it might be felt in other timelines. He didn't really want to take that risk, so he figured staying low was probably his best bet. If anyone overheard him on the phone admitting to who he was, or trying to convince Peggy of who he was, he knew it wouldn't take long for word to get out that he was alive, and he would much rather stay legally dead. On top of that, he wasn't sure that Peggy would believe it was him if she only heard his voice, which he knew she would recognize, but being a spy, she would probably think it was a trap. No, showing up was probably his best bet. Peggy was still on active duty, even with the end the war, since that was the nature of her job. He knew there would be a lot of Nazis who had escaped who would later be found, and he had to squelch the urge to go after them himself, especially since he knew where most of them were, as those in this timeline did not. It was one of the things he had researched after he had awoken from the ice, he had to know how many had been brought to justice for what they did. The number was painfully low, and he allowed himself a brief thought of how many more he could bring to justice knowing what he knew now, and knowing that he had the skills to find them.

But he had to force himself not to think such things. He knew that coming back in time with his knowledge from the future of what was going to happen in the next century would be a problem, but he also knew that it was important that he not disrupt the timeline too much. Instead, he was going to have to force himself to remain hidden and not worry about the events of history, which he knew others would eventually handle. But that still left the problem of finding Peggy in person. It's not like members of a strategic intelligence division advertise their movements, and he knew that for many of them, the war would not be over from the world of spies for quite some time, if it ever ended. He also knew from his research, and from a few things Sharon had once said, that she had eventually gone on leave at a small rented house in a residential area just outside of the city to try to recuperate and come to terms with losing him and changes that were happening in her life. That and, fed up with all the trouble that seemed to follow her home from work, the headmistress of the boarding house where she had been staying had, not too subtly, told her to find somewhere else to live. He had to do a bit of calling around, but he was able to locate a few candidates of which house it likely would be, and set up a routine of walking past them in disguise to see if he could spot Peggy.

About a week later, his efforts paid off as he spotted her walking to a small house on a quiet street from a nearby corner store. She was carrying some groceries, and she looked heavily lost in thought, not at all like the woman who was always painfully aware of her surroundings as he had known her. His heart lurched thinking that he was the cause of her distraction and obvious sadness. He wanted to run to her right away, but then, unbidden, he thought about a few things Sharon had once said when describing Peggy's life following the war as she had known it, that Peggy had indeed been despondent and reeling from the war, but had thrown herself into her work, and had forced herself to readjust to the world in which she now found herself. That had included proving her worth to her male colleagues, coming up with some information that they had not been able to discover themselves, which included an ongoing plot to reestablish Hydra.

Briefly, Steve thought about the man that Peggy had married and their two children. For a minute, he stopped and considered. He did not want to be responsible for derailing any lies or preventing any from being born, but he told himself that in the primary timeline, the one he had just come from, they would continue to exist as they always had. What he was in, he told himself, was an alternate timeline. It was one in which he knew Thanos would win, but it was one of his choosing. If he managed to reconnect with Peggy, then those children would not be born as they were in the timeline he had just left, and the man that she married would go on to lead a different life, but they would not be wiped from existence. He felt a strong urge to reconsider his actions and return back to the 21st-century he had just left. But then he steeled himself. There were millions of timelines that Stephen Strange had apparently seen. In any one of those, Peggy might have lived many different kinds of lives. She might have been killed in World War II. She might have remained single all her life. She might have been killed in the line of duty for the SSR. She might have returned to England and married someone completely different there. There was nothing special about this timeline over any others, he told himself, and if they ended up together, then it would be no less of any kind of tragedy that her family would not exist in the other timelines that had occurred naturally. No, he told himself, this was what he always wanted and it was what he was going to do.

Initiating contact with her after she had believed him dead for three years would be difficult, though. He wasn't entirely sure how to approach her, even though he now knew where she was. Ultimately, he decided on the direct approach, and broad daylight in front of the house as she walked up. He figured she was less likely to just shoot him immediately on an urban residential street. At least he hoped that was the case. He had figured out about what time she would be returning from work, and so he positioned himself on the porch waiting for her arrival. He figured it was going to be the less shocking approach.

He was wrong.

She was running late. The sun would be setting soon and she should have arrived at the house an hour earlier, but there was no sign of her. Even when she made a stop on the way, she didn't often take this long, at least not in the week he had been watching her. He was in the process of figuring that she had gotten hung up at work, and was about to get up off the porch and try again the next day, when he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel press into his shoulder. He froze, listening, recognizing her breathing behind him. She had snuck up on him completely unaware. He must be losing his touch.

"Don't move. Hands where I can see them," came her voice, cold and methodical.

"Peggy, it's me. It's…" he started.

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't talk unless I tell you to. I don't know who you are or how you got this good of a disguise, but you're not fooling me. Who are you? Are you Hydra?"

"No, it's me. Steve. I know you must be shocked, but..."

She pressed the gun barrel harder into his shoulder and his mouth snapshot. "I said you don't talk unless I tell you too. A simple yes or no answer will suffice."

Steve sighed. This was not going at all how he had envisioned it. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what he was envisioning, but a gun had not been part of the equation. In all of the possible scenarios of their reunion that he had gone through in his mind, most of them had involved shock on her part, disbelief, maybe even anger, but in the end they had all ended with her being glad to see him. Of course, they had all also included him being able to explain himself. He hoped he would get a chance before she pulled the trigger. Not that he was incredibly worried about his ability to get away from her. Even though he was seated with his back to her and his hands slightly raised, with her standing behind him with her gun cocked in his shoulder blade, he still was reasonably sure that he could move fast enough to disarm her before she caused any damage. Still, he would rather avoid that. He didn't want to hurt her, and he didn't travel all the way back in time to see the woman he loved only to be shot by her. He had already had quite enough of that.

"Let me lay this out for you," she said. "Steve Rogers is dead. Using his face as a disguise was not smart. I know he's dead, so that means you cannot possibly be him. Whatever you're using to change your voice to sound like him must be pretty good technology. But I don't buy it for a second. Now tell me who you really are, and what you're doing here."

"Can I use more than yes or no to answer that question?" he asked.

He felt her stiffen in surprise, like she was suppressing a laugh, and then she was all business again. "Start talking," she said.

"Look, I know how this looks to you, but it really is me. I know you think I died in that plane crash, but I didn't. I'll be glad to tell you the specifics of how I survived and how I came to be here, but I would rather do it without a gun pressing into my back. But I'm here now, Peggy. I came back to you."

"No," she said, "it's not possible. Steve…"

She didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as he whirled out of the chair to his feet, in the process flipping the gun deftly out of her hands. It took her approximately half a second to recover from her shock, and he had only just gotten the safety back on the gun when she attacked. Although she was right handed, she slammed her left fist into his solar plexus, then caught him with a right cross to the jaw. The blows would have flattened a normal man, and Steve admitted they certainly didn't feel good. But he didn't go down. Briefly he experienced a sense of déjà vu as he recalled that the last time he had sparred with Peggy's niece, Sharon Carter, that Sharon had hit him with nearly identical combination. And Sharon had left a bruise.

She hesitated for half a second, clearly surprised that he had not gone down, but then he had her. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, immobilizing her arm, then spun her around into a bear hug, using one arm to secure her against him, and the other arm to quickly get the front door open and the two of them inside. If this fight went on much longer on the front porch of a residential area, someone was sure to call the police, if they hadn't already. Anticipating that she would do anything she could to get out of a pin, he moved his head to the side to avoid the backwards headbutt he knew was coming. Once the door was closed, he wrapped both arms around her, letting her feel how powerful he was, far stronger than any other man, and held her in such a way that he knew she would not be hurt, but she was definitely not going anywhere.

"Peggy, stop! Stop. It's me, it's really me. It's Steve. I came back. I'm not going to hurt you."

She continued to struggle for a minute longer, not entirely registering his words. But then slowly, it started to seep in. The unnatural power of his arms around her, his voice, his scent, even how he felt against her. He felt her begin to relax as she finally stopped struggling.

"Steve," she whispered, turning in his arms and throwing her arms around his neck. Mindful of his greater strength, he firmly pressed her to him. Without warning, tears began to flow out of his eyes as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. Her shoulders shook it and he realize she was crying too.

"Peggy," he murmured.

Reluctantly, she pulled away and took a step back to look at him fully. Her hand came up to his face and her thumb traced the lines and angles, noting where there had been creases were previously there had not been.

"What happened to you? You're older. But not much older. But more than two years, unless something happened with the serum? What happened? How did you survive a plane crash? Did you parachute out? And where have you been?"

He reached for her again and ran his hands gently up and down her arms. "Peggy, I promise I'll tell you what I can. Just one question at a time, OK?"

She quirked the side of her mouth up and that half smile that he remembered loving about her.

"OK," she said, "but I should probably go out and get the mail and make a big show of it. I don't want my neighbors getting upset if they saw me pull a gun on you."

Steve nodded as she turned and went back out the front door. He peered through the drapes as he watched her slowly walk to the mailbox, retrieve the mail, wave to someone walking their dog down the street, and then make her way back sifting through the envelopes as if she were looking for something. Only given the fact that he knew her as well as he did let him see that it was all very exaggerated, purposely slow for the purpose of putting on a show for her neighbors. Letting them know or anyone who might have been watching that she was truly OK. When she reach the porch, she hurried back inside, and dropped the mail on the table.

She turned to face him. "OK, I suspect I'm in for a long story. Should I make some tea?"

He laughed. "You've been in America long enough to start drinking coffee. You're still drinking tea?"

At that she laughed, something he had not heard often from her even in the time he had known her. "There wasn't much to laugh about during war. If you want coffee, I can make coffee."

"I don't want you to put yourself out for me," he said, "I came to see you, not be waited on."

"Don't be silly," she said turning on her heel and heading towards the kitchen. "Best come in here if you want anything. I remember how much you used to eat."

He followed her into the kitchen as she pulled out the coffee pot and filled it with water in the sink, and put it on the stove to boil. She pulled out the canister of coffee, and began measuring out spoonfuls. Steve stifled the urge to tell her about Keurig Coffee machines.

"It'll be dinner time soon," she said. "Are you hungry?"

"Always," he quipped. "You know that. But let me help you."

She looked over her shoulder at him in surprise. "You know how to cook? Where have you been, Mars?"

"Hey," he said feigning outrage, "I'll have you know that I can cook up a mean MRE. Although yeah, my cooking skills are not up to speed. But I can assist."

"Can you chop up a chicken without losing a finger?" she asked.

"I think I can manage," he said.

As he pulled out items from the pantry in the icebox, smiling a bit at the sight of the old contraption versus the water and ice dispensing Frigidaire that had been in the Avengers facility, it occurred to him how little time he had actually spent with Peggy doing domestic or normal things. They had only known each other in a war zone, and had lived in different quarters. If there was any cooking or domesticity happening, he had never witnessed it, nor had she witnessed it in him. Simply put, he had never seen her putter around the kitchen until now. Unbidden, the image of her home back in the 21st-century timeline he had just left flashed into his mind.

He had visited once, after running into Peggy's son Ed, named after Edwin Jarvis, at the nursing home where she had been living. They had shook hands and he had invited Steve to the house to meet the rest of the Carters. It had been right after he had awakened from the ice, and he was still feeling disoriented, so his visit had not really registered in his mind that the people in front of him were Peggy's children and grandchildren. He could certainly see her resemblance in most of the people in front of him, but it was easy to write them off as unconnected family members in his mind, when his mind had still been wrapped around the Peggy of 1945 that he had left behind, in his conscious recollection, only a few weeks prior. He never quite reconciled in his mind that the people in front of them were her direct descendants. At any rate, Ed and his wife and children were living in the house that had been Peggy's for several decades before she moved into the nursing home. He had briefly shown Steve around, showing him some pictures, some of which were duplicates of the one in Peggy's room at the facility. Ed had told him that they had not really changed the decor much, only when they had updated the house to a more modern design, and update of the appliances.

The pale yellow walls of the kitchen and the white print drapes on the windows had been what Peggy had decorated. The placement of certain items around the house were unchanged in some of the rooms. Although Ed's family was living there now and had made their own modifications, the entire place still felt very much like Peggy, her personality, and everything about her was infused in the walls. She had puttered around that kitchen in which he had sat, having a hard time listening to her family go on about her as their mother and grandmother, something he had not been able to reconcile in his own mind.

He snapped out of his reverie to get back to helping her, as they made a mountain of chicken, vegetables, fresh bread, and a huge heaping of mashed potatoes. The changes he had undergone in Project Rebirth had ramped up his metabolism, requiring him to eat twice the normal calories of the average human man. In World War II, he had been issued small team rations, which he usually went through without breaking a sweat. In the 21st-century, he had been given specially formulated protein bars that had been designed for individuals lost at sea and were normally stashed on life rafts. They were tasteless and boring, but each one was 2000 calories, meaning he could normally eat whatever he wanted after that, as long as the emergency food bars made up the calories he didn't get from eating normally. He winced a little bit in guilt at the amount of food she had made for him, vowing to spend what little of his resources he had left in 1940s money to contribute to the groceries. He was definitely going to have to find some way to do for himself without drawing attention.

They sat down at the table and dove in. Well Steve did. Peggy contented herself with a few pieces of chicken, some potatoes and some carrots. Steve ate the rest. She left him alone for several minutes, giving him a chance to eat before looking at him and cocking her eyebrow up, indicating that she was ready to hear what he had to say.

"Well," she said, "let's hear what has to be a fascinating story."

"To be honest," he said, "I'm not really sure where to start. There's not exactly a clear beginning. I suspect you probably won't believe half of it. But you should get comfortable, because there's some time travel involved."

"Time travel?" she asked in a slightly disbelieving tone.

"Believe me," he said, "that was my response when I first heard about it. But I can tell you that there were Starks involved, if that helps."

"Ahhh," she said, the disbelief instantly leaving her face. "Well that explains it. If you are told me anyone else had been involved in something involving time travel, I would tell you the technology simply doesn't exist. But I soon as you said Stark, that was it. Go on."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, Howard has a son…will have a son, and he is every bit the genius Howard was… is, more even if you can imagine it. He's going to be the one responsible for most of it. Although there were others too. To be honest I'm not entirely sure how much I should tell you. As it was explained to me, I'm not going to mess up anybody's futures by coming here or by telling you this, but I'm still nervous. I don't want to be responsible for someone not being born because I tell you the story."

"Well tell me what you think you can," she replied. "Just how far into the future did you go? If we're talking about a son that Howard doesn't have yet, then it's going to be a couple of decades."

"70," he said. "I came to in the year 2012."

Her eyes got huge and she said back. "Oh Steve, that's, that's unbelievable."

"You are no ideal," he said quietly. And then he began to talk.

He told her about crashing the Valkyrie, about how the crash had knocked him out, and how he had briefly regained consciousness to feel the icy water coming in over his legs and working its way up his chest. He figured he was going to drown, and lost consciousness again expecting to die. Every so often he would become aware of his body, being freezing cold but not dead, and then darkness again. He told her about the sound of voices and lights and how they had chiseled him out of the ice block after S.H.I.E.L.D. had found him. He talked about S.H.I.E.L.D. in only the briefest of details, leaving out as much as he could about her involvement and Howard's involvement and its founding. He told her only that it was a government agency dedicated to addressing threats like Hydra, criminals who made use of super powered individuals to commit crimes. S.H.I.E.L.D. was predominately the answer to that.

He told her about feeling completely out of place and out of time and how disorienting it was. To wake up to find out that most of the people you cared about and loved were dead, had moved on and had children who are now grown, some of them even a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. He told her about briefly meeting Gabe Jones' grandson Antoine Triplett before the young man had left off to re-join Phil Colson with his S.H.I.E.L.D. team, the specifics of which Steve also left out. Phil's team had formed in the wake of the Hydra decapitation of S.H.I.E.L.D. He mentioned what he could about the criminal element existing within S.H.I.E.L.D., but left out that it was Hydra. He did tell her about the alien invasion of New York and the battle that brought the Avengers together, and told her what he could of the various members of the Avengers team, including Tony Stark.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Howard settled down long enough with any woman to produce a legitimate child," Peggy said. "I mean I'm surprised he doesn't have a dozen at this point, I guess he's careful."

"I never asked," said Steve tactfully. "But from what I can tell, he loved his wife, Tony's mother. I never got the chance to meet her, but she must have been amazing."

"Someone who could tame Howard?" asked Peggy. "She must've been a saint."

Steve laughed. "That's pretty much what everyone thinks about Tony's wife Pepper. I could tell you the story of what she's put up with in the years she's been with him, and she still loves him and stands by him. I admire her, really. Some of the others think she might be a little wacky in the head to have put up with Tony all these years. But when I left, they were married and had the cutest little girl. So I got to see Howard's granddaughter."

Peggy smiled, still gently shaking her head as if she wanted to believe all he was saying, but was having difficulty. She sat sipping her coffee which she had moved on after the tea, decided she needed something stronger. He figured the spirits would probably come out if he kept on telling her what he had to tell her. He didn't go into too much detail about Ultron, mentioning only that the team had faced off against a problem that Tony had unwittingly caused, and how it had let them to the twins. He told her a little bit about Natasha Romanoff, leaving out the most recent developments with Nat, figuring he would get to that point soon enough. He told her about Clint, even about Thor and the Asgardians, at which point he could tell she was starting to lose her ability to suspend her disbelief.

"I know it's a lot to take in," he admitted, "and I haven't really even told you all of it. There's a lot I'm leaving out just because I don't want to overwhelm you. It's nearly ten years' worth of story. Believe me, I wouldn't have believed it myself unless I had seen it with my own eyes. And they checked me out pretty thoroughly, they say I'm not crazy."

"When are you getting to the time travel part?" she asked.

He shifted a bit. "You better get comfortable," he said. "This one's going to be even stranger. Everything I've told you so far is been leading up to all of this, the invasion of New York, the creation of Vision, all of these events are due to some objects called Infinity stones. The Tesseract, the cosmic cube that Red Skull wanted, was one of them."

"Howard found it," she admitted. "While he was looking for you."

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "Probably best to stay away from it from now. Because I know you're thinking of going down to the locker where it's being kept on looking at it."

She snorted and looked away, but didn't deny it.

He told her about Scott's idea to use the quantum realm to get past versions of the stones, told her what Banner said about not being able to screw up the future by meddling in the past due to the branching timeline theory, told her about fudging the first attempt to get the tesseract during the battle of New York, then traveling to another time, he didn't specify, to get it and seeing her.

"So you saw me there, I'm at 50 years old, from behind a window, and, then what?" she asked. "That was when you decided to come back, to now?"

"I missed you so much," he said. "I can't even describe how much."

"I think I have an idea," she said with a quiet smile. "When you woke up in the 21st-century, you mentioned that everybody you knew our loved was dead. Me too? Howard?"

"Actually, everyone but you. But you were…not well."

"Did you have to watch me die?" she asked bluntly.

"I didn't watch you die," he said wiping a tear away from his eye. "But I buried you. I was a pallbearer."

"They probably only needed you," she joked grimly. "But if everybody I knew was dead, I wonder who the other five were. Probably people I haven't even met yet. Probably people who aren't even born yet."

Steve shrugged, not sure how willing he was to mention that some of them had been her family members. Some who were not born yet, and maybe would not be. He had carefully avoided mentioning Sharon or any mention of her family. He had been selective with names and places and locations that she might be able to identify later, for he suspected that her memory right now was sharp enough to recall it when the time came.

"That must've been hard for you," she said, bringing him back to the present.

"It was," he whispered. "I kept thinking about all the things we never got to do, namely that dance. But I would never know what my life was like with you."

"But did you ever know how my life turned out?" she asked. "What I did with myself? Was I only about work? Or did I ever marry? Or move on? Did I spend the next 80 years grieving for you?"

"No," Steve admitted. "And I was told a bit about your life. So I know somethings, but that was another timeline, remember that."

"Who told you about my life?" she asked. "People I worked with?"

"Some of them, yes", said Steve. But he could tell from the way her eyes slightly narrowed that she wasn't entirely satisfied with his answer. She knew he was holding something back. He decided that telling her about Sharon, just a little, probably wouldn't hurt.

"Your niece told me a little bit too," he admitted.

"My niece?" She said. "I can't possibly have a niece. I had one brother, and he was killed in the war. Unless it was someone I married, and I have a niece through him."

"No," said Steve. "She's your niece. Your brother, Michael I think it was, has a son. As it was told to me, a girl he was dating back in England during the war discovered she was pregnant right before he shipped out. They did a rushed justice of the peace wedding and filed it with the British military so that she could get benefits in the event that something happened to him. You won't know about them for a while, although I guess you know about them now since I'm telling you. But his wife would take a few years to find out where you were. It's not like you're publicly listed in the phonebook. And it'll be a few years after that before she decides to come over here. God, her father is only a baby right now, maybe like two or three years old. That's amazing. But that baby will grow up to be the father of your niece, Sharon Carter."

"Do you know her?" Peggy asked.

"We crossed paths a few times," he admitted. "She followed you into the intelligence work. Apparently she's pretty good too. When I first walked woke up, she looked after me for a couple of years, living in the apartment next to mine. Actually she didn't tell me who she was. I think she was under orders not to. I found out how she was related to you at your funeral. That was weird."

"Not half as weird as hearing it," Peggy said. "I want to know more about her. And the life I had."

"It might not be a good thing if I tell you too much," said Steve. "I don't want anything I say to affect any decisions you might make, or anything that might affect Sharon. And I still need to tell you how everything ended up."

"OK," agreed Peggy, "but then I want some of the answers I asked for."

Steve nodded and continued with the rest of his narrative, finishing his story about how they defeated Thanos, and how he was given the assignment of returning the stones. How he was supposed to return to the modern era, but instead he had focused his time traveling device to this time period, So that he could be with her, now that his mission was completed. All told, the story took 4 1/2 hours to complete, and it was past midnight when he finally finished. At this point, Peggy had moved on to a bottle of wine and was on her second glass. Steve poured some for himself, simply because a gentleman never let a lady drink alone, even though he knew the wine wasn't going to affect him much.

By the time he was done and Peggy was on her second glass, she was holding her head in her hands. "Steve, this is a lot. I noticed you following me a week ago, and I admit I figured you were someone in disguise as Steve, someone trying to get to me. I'm not sure everything you've told me here is an improvement on the situation. For me, you've been gone two years, but you've actually been gone over 10. You're a different man, I can see it already in the way that you talk in the way that you hold yourself. I have so many questions about the 21st-century I know you probably won't answer, questions about me, and I don't even know if you're really Steve or if you're telling me the truth, or if you can even prove any of this."

He reached over and took her hand, and was relieved when she didn't pull it away. "What can I say or do that will convince you?"

"Tell me something from before when we knew each other that only you and I would know. Something an imposter wouldn't know. Show me this time travel device. Did you bring nothing back from the 21st-century that we don't have now? Anything."

Steve held her hand for a moment longer, then squeezed it. "Remember after Bucky fell from the train and you found me in the burned out remains of the pub where I formed the Howling Commandos? That was where I told you about my ramped up metabolism, and how I could drink as much as I wanted and not get drunk. Nobody was there but us, and I don't think anyone overheard that conversation."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. "I know it's you," she said quietly.

He held out his arm, pushing his wrist forward from the cuff of his jacket. On his arm appeared to be an oversized band with some device on it, not on watch, something much bigger, but small enough to fit on the arm.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Time travel device," he said. "It pinpoints an exact point in time on a timeline, and brings you there. But it doesn't work indefinitely. It works using a type of fuel, something called Prym particles, that haven't been invented yet it won't be for a long time. We only had a very small, limited amount. And while I theoretically could travel to a point in time on several timelines where they were invented to get some, I'd really rather not. I think I'm done jumping through time for a while. I only have enough for one more trip, and it would have to be an emergency."

Peggy took a hold of his arms and examined the device. It was clearly of a design that was futuristic to her eyes, and she had no idea how it operated or even that it was what Steve said it was. While she only had the smallest of lingering doubts that it was truly Steve in front of her, before she had been carefully studying him the whole night for any sign of subterfuge, and had found none, she still wasn't entirely certain that she believed the stories that he was giving her. How could any of this be possible? She wanted more than ever to call Howard Stark, or better yet just drop by his house for she didn't trust phone lines, show him this device and tell him Steve's story and ask him if it was even remotely possible. But that would probably result in his son not being born. This was definitely Steve, but had he suffered a nervous breakdown?

She let him go and he pulled his arm back. He looked at her sympathetically. "I'm a jerk. I've kept you up all night, shocking you half to death by just showing up, and drop this insane crazy story in your lap. Thank you for not having called the nurse insane asylum."

She laughed. "I admit, it's a lot to take in. But given what we saw during the war with the Red Skull, I am willing to keep an open mind about what is or is not possible."

"You should get some sleep," he said. "The couch in the living room looks comfortable if you don't mind me crashing on it."

"Of course not," she said. "Although I don't know how comfortable it is. By the way, what are you going to do? Hide out in a house for the next 80 years? It's not like you can easily come forward as Steve Rogers, Captain America. Everyone thinks you're dead, if you do come forward now then 80 years from now when you come forward again it will cause all kinds of problems."

"Yeah, I'm thinking new identity is the way to go. Maybe dye my hair and grow a beard. Go find a nondescript job somewhere."

"You'll be happy doing that?" she asked, seeming like she didn't quite believe it.

"For the chance to be with you again? Absolutely." he said.

Peggy felt a mild sense of unease. It had been two years since the war ended, and she had begun work at the SSR. Steve had come back out of the blue, but was behaving as if it was only a day or two since the last time she had seen him. He had been so busy telling her about what he had been up to, he had not had the chance to ask her about or listen to what she had been up to. And frankly she had quite a lot to tell. How she and the Commandos had gone to Russia and found that freaky school that trained children to be assassins. Faustus. Zola. Dottie Underwood. How Howard Stark had been framed for murder and how she and Daniel and Jarvis had worked to clear his name.

Daniel.

Suddenly she felt her heart lurch. It had taken her two years to realize she had feelings for the man. The first year she had worked at the SSR, it had been about battling sexism and proving her worth to her colleagues, while also coming to terms with losing Steve. She had not allowed herself to entertain the notion of a personal life beyond work, not just yet, especially having already failed at one serious relationship and engagement before the war, which her brother Michael had busted her chops about. And now she was grateful for that, for Michael have been right, she would not have been happy. Steve understood her need to work at what she was good at, and wouldn't try to stop her, but there weren't many men in this day and age it would be that way. But Daniel was. Facing discrimination himself because of his disability, he was constantly having to prove himself as an agent and a man. Given his perspective, he was one of the few who had not immediately written her off for being a woman, even respected her enough to know that she was probably several steps ahead of him and the others. And to utilize that. She hadn't realized how she felt about him until he had asked her out and she had backed away, afraid that it would mean the end of her career, only to see him date and later become engaged to someone else. It had actually twisted her heart, and she had stuck her neck out to tell him how she felt. She had been the one to kiss him first, and it had been a lot more wonderful than she had expected.

She had not yet had a chance to tell any of this to Steve. How would he take it? Now that he was here, did that mean that everything with Daniel was now over? Daniel had only just ended his engagement a few weeks ago. He would be terribly hurt.

Peggy suddenly realized what an untenable position she was in, with Steve suddenly turning up like this. She had a mountain of issues going on at the SSR, and she wasn't all certain that Steve would stay out of them. But if he interfered, there could be lives at stake. And she had absolutely no idea what to do about Daniel. For a brief moment, she actually felt a flash of irritation at Steve. This was quite a disruption in her life, but she buried it quickly. She was enormously grateful to see him, to know he was alive, and she recognized the second chance at a relationship that he was giving her by showing up like this.

Without thinking, she moved into his arms and he kissed her. It was a desperate kiss, born of being forced apart the way they had, two years for her, but close to ten years for him. She had no idea how long it went on, but she felt him begin to relax as she wrapped her arms around him. It was not certain which one of them moved first, but the next thing she knew, she was backing up down the hallway, bringing him with her. She wasn't sure that this was the right thing to do, especially with so much on certain and her believing he was dead only 24 hours previously. But she had also learned the hard way, through war and through work that one should never take for granted the present, or the assumption that someone would be in your life tomorrow. And if offered a second chance, you damn well take it.

Steve hesitated only slightly, as if giving her a chance to change her mind about the fact that she was pulling him slowly into her bedroom, but when she close the door behind them, he seemed to accept that this was indeed what she wanted. It was a little awkward, and they were both glad for the darkness. More than once, one of them would laugh nervously, and Steve nearly chickened out for fear of hurting her. When he entered her, she yelped slightly, but then kissed him forcefully to assure him that she was not in pain. He tried to move slowly, to give her time to adjust, but eventually neither could hold back, and it was over with in what had to be only about five minutes. He manage to maintain enough control to pull out, thankfully right after he sent her crashing over the edge. It would have sucked if he had reached completion before her. She whimpered in slight disappointment, but both understood. Contraceptive in this time was iffy at best, and neither of them had any condoms. Steve well knew that what they had just done was risky itself, and he hoped they wouldn't end up regretting this later. After cleaning up a bit, they snuggled together in her bed, and Steve drifted off, content but also restless as well and he couldn't place his finger on it. This should have been the happiest moment of his life. So why did he feel something was off? 


	2. Chapter 2

Even though she was exhausted, Peggy only slept for a few hours. Steve himself only need about three or four, but it was nearly 2 o'clock in the morning before they managed to get any sleep. So she expected that he would at least sleep until sunrise. She woke up around 4:30, exhausted but knowing that she was not going to sleep anymore with her mind racing the way it was. Stretching, she rolled over and felt Steve still asleep behind her, breathing evenly, but he seemed to be restless, shifting position every few minutes. She waited until he finally settled before getting up and pulling some house clothes on. She went into the kitchen to start the coffee pot boiling on the stove, before going back into the bedroom to check on Steve. He seemed to have settled down a bit and was snoring slightly. She felt her gaze go soft, as she tried to process everything he had told her the night before. Has he really been traveling through time? Did he have any proof of that other than that strange wrist contraption?

She had seen him slip it into his pocket, before their emotions had taken over. She recalled hearing a solid thunk as he had dropped his pants on the floor. She had been so caught up in emotion, and wrapped up in him, that she had not really thought about it, but that small wrist device should not have made that hard of the sound. Did he have anything else in his pockets? She gaze down at the pile of clothes, briefly considering about what it would mean to invade his privacy, and then decided that she had to know. Under the pretext of folding his clothes, she picked up his pants and pulled the small wrist contraption out of the pocket she had seen him slip it in. It was indeed quite a solid weight, and gave off a small heat showing that it was powered in some way. Probably by some sort of battery the likes of which she had never seen. She turned it over in her fingers, not really able to make heads or tails of it, and slipped it back where she had found it. But there was something else in another pocket. She reached inside and her fingers slipped over what felt like some sort of thick wire, and a flat smooth heavy piece of glass. She pulled them both out and saw that the wire seemed to be some sort of cord with a plug on the end. On the other end was some sort of connector that she had never seen before. She figured it was some sort of charging cable. Then she looked at the device. At first glance, she couldn't really tell what it was. On one side was a flat, smooth piece of glass, and the other side seemed to be some sort of contoured metal. There were buttons on either side of it, but unlike the wrist device, this one was cold.

She glanced over at Steve, still asleep, before gathering up the device and the cord, folding up his pants on top of the rest of his clothes, and retreating to the kitchen where she could turn on the light and examine the device more closely. Under the light, she could see a tiny port that seemed to be the same match as the prong on the end of the cord, and she realized that this must be some sort of method of charging the contraption. She carefully slid the prong end of the cord into the device and it fit perfectly. She looked around at the sockets in the kitchen, one near the kitchen table, and carefully plugged in the cord. She had no idea if the voltage would be the same, but it seemed to be. The device buzzed in her hand and she nearly dropped it, looking down just in time to see the glass part light up. Her breath caught in her throat. It was a screen of some sort!

She was struck with wonder as she watched the device begin to start up, the entire screen turning white, and then the word "Samsung" flash across it. She didn't recognize the word, but she quickly focused her attention on the animation of swirling color as it flashed across the screen and the device buzzed shortly one more time. She had never seen a color screen before, not one this tiny. She was used to the green tint on cathode ray tubes of the sort of screens used during World War II. The Wizard of Oz movie had been considered so revolutionary because it was one of the first done in color, and she remembered being mesmerized by the sight of color on the movie screen when her mother had taken her and her brother Michael to see the movie in the theater. But now, she was holding what appeared to be a miniature screen in her hand, showing vibrant colors the likes of which she had never seen. The device appeared to be finished booting up, for a brief picture appeared on the screen, what appeared to be some sort of painting or drawing of the army logo. But it was not like any sort of picture she had ever seen before. It was clearly not a photograph, it was some form of artwork, but it wasn't painted and it wasn't pencil or any form of cartoon. She couldn't quite place what was different about the image on the screen, but she had a feeling it had been made using techniques that were not yet available. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she realized she was truly holding some sort of device from the future. Suddenly the screen went dark and the device seemed to cease functioning.

Perplexed, she turned it over in her hand again, this time noticing a small red light near the top of the glass part. She wasn't sure if that meant anything, but she tried pushing a few of the buttons. Instantly the screen came back to life when she pressed the single button on the right side, and she held it for a bit, staring at the logo, before the screen went dark again. She pushed the button one more time briefly, and it came back on. Now she understood. The device was still on, but periodically the screen went dark, in some sort of sleep mode, and to wake it back up, one must push the side button. Even so, she was becoming a little frustrated. She wasn't entirely sure what the device did. Surely it didn't just charge up and show a picture of the army logo? Steve would not have risked bringing it back in time with him if he truly had been in the future as he said he had. This was clearly some kind of device from the future, and it must be important or do other things if Steve would risk bringing it back to time, where it could be appropriated and copied far sooner than it was supposed to be. That could mess up the timeline. She knew he would not have simply forgotten to take it out of his pocket, so it must be important to him, and she doubt that it was simply used to display a picture of the army logo. She tried pushing some of the other buttons while the screen was active, but that only earned her some sort of pop-up picture of a bar with a circle in the middle where the circle moved right or left. It made a sound as she moved it, and she figured out that she must be pressing the volume to turn the volume up or down. That means that the device made some sort of noise, other than the tone it was making to indicate the level of volume. She recalled that the device had made some low tones as it had started up.

As she turned it over again in her fingers with the screen active, suddenly something happened. Her thumb slid across the glass screen, and the image changed from the army logo to a series of numbers. She stared at it, reading the words at the top, which indicated that a pass key was required. She pressed the number one, and one of six dots near the top turned into a one. She understood then, that there was a combination code of six numbers that she had to figure out in order to unlock the device, and she felt herself smile. This was her specialty. All she needed to do was figure out what combination of numbers Steve would use as a passcode. As a seasoned code cracker from World War II, she knew that for personal devices such as combination locks for lockers, it was common to use a number that had some sort of significance to the user. Like his birthday, or his mother's birthday. She did a brief mental regulation, and then entered in 070418. The six numbers were Steve's birthday. Instantly the device unlocked and went to a new screen.

"Oh Steve," she whispered in amusement, "you really are an amateur."

Recalling that her finger moving across the screen had brought up the keypad, she carefully moved her finger across the screen again. Instantly, it shifted. There seem to be rows and rows of small pictures upon a larger background picture, and she had no idea what any of it meant. There seemed to be only three screens full of pictures, although the dots at the bottom that shifted as she swiped across the screen indicated that there were two more pages of pictures that could be filled. She tried swiping across and up and down the little individual pictures to try and figure out what they meant, but it wasn't until her thumb hit a picture that looked like an envelope that another screen came up, and she figured out that instead of swiping, she had to tap the image in order to activate whatever function it did. She held her breath and stared at the device in wonder. Howard Stark would have a field day with this thing! A touchscreen, and it performed actions based on tapping pictures that represent those actions. This thing was ingenious!

The envelope icon brought up a list of what looked like messages. She understood by now that swiping her finger across the screen would allow it to move between messages, and she could see that several had been directed at Steve. Now this was extraordinary. Letter writing without paper. Depending on how fast this device exchanged messages, this could be an enormous timesaver rather than waiting for telegrams or letters to arrive. She wondered if everybody in the future had a device such as this, it would illuminate the need for letter writing entirely. She actually found the thought somewhat sad, as she rather enjoyed getting letters and telegrams and postcards from people, but she could see how, especially in terms of getting work done, how this form of communication might be extremely useful in the future. Hell, she wouldn't mind having something like this now.

She was starting to get the hang of scrolling, and briefly skimmed through some of the messages, trying to swallow her guilt at invading his privacy and reading private communications. She didn't recognize any of the names, although one name, Tony Stark, jumped out at her, and she wondered if this was the same person who Steve had referred to as Howard's son? There wasn't any indication in the correspondence, as the two men seem to have mostly talked about business and some unspecified falling out between the two of them some years prior. She knew that Steve had left quite a bit out of the story he had told her the night before, had only alluded to having a difference of opinion with Howard's son, but had not gone into detail. From the looks of these messages, the disagreements had been far more serious than Steve had let on. There were also messages from someone named Nick Fury, although not many, and a woman named Maria Hill who seemed to be an associate of Fury's, working at the Stark Foundation. Another name jumped out at her, Sharon Carter, who had sent Steve a message to advise him that she was OK and in one piece and would talk with him later, imploring him to call her. Was this her niece that Steve had briefly mentioned? None of these messages had pictures, so there was no way to tell about the sender. She returned back to the main screen and began tapping the various images to see what they did.

Several brought up games, some of which she recognized like solitaire and chess, but some others were completely unfathomable, including one called "Candy Crush." It was a cartoonish childlike game that appeared to involve matching different colored candies together. Peggy found herself somewhat lost in learning the basics of it before she forced herself to close it out and go back to exploring the device. It would be fun to explore the games later if she had a chance. They far surpassed anything she could even imagine. Another icon brought up what looked to be a telephone function of some kind, though without a rotary dial. The icon looked something like a phone receiver, and there were several names on a list in different colors that indicated whether or not the call had come through or had been missed. Well, this would definitely be a useful function, to have a telephone on the device, but how did the device receive and make calls? Did it plug into a cord? Perhaps it used radio like a walkie-talkie. There seemed to be a few missed calls from Sharon Carter. Looking around to make sure she wasn't being watched, she carefully tapped the name and to her surprise a screen came up that said "dialing," along with a picture of a pretty blonde girl. Peggy studied the picture carefully, this must be Sharon, but the girl looked nothing like Peggy herself. Maybe it was a different Carter, it was a common enough name. The device seem to be attempting to dial, and then a message came up: "no signal."

So whatever system allowed this device to function as a phone was not present, probably because it had not been created yet. She found another icon that had a cartoon voice bubble in it, and when she tapped it, she could see that it brought up more conversations between Steve and the people in his contact list. Only these messages seemed to be shorter, not letters like the messages she had just read, but instead as if a typing conversation took place, with one person answering a point, and the other person moving on. It was another form of digital communication, one that mimicked a conversation and not letter writing. She could see that this form of communication seemed to be more popular than the other one, with some conversations even including pictures, such as one between Steve and Tony Stark that included a picture of a newborn infant and then later pictures of a little girl. With a start, Peggy realize that this must be Howard's granddaughter. According to the conversation, she was named Morgan after her mother's "crazy uncle." Her mother's name was Pepper, which Peggy thought was rather cute. She also noticed something interesting about the conversations between Steve and some of the group versus others. Some of the conversations were fairly recent, going back a couple of years, from the year 2023 to 2017. But several of the conversations, including one with Sharon, seemed to stop at 2017. She recalled that Steve had told her that an alien warlord had wiped out half of the life in the universe, and she realize that by reading these conversations, she could see which ones of Steve's group had been wiped out. Some of them had been his closest friends and comrades. One of them had been Sharon. But then, there was a five-year gap and a jump where the messages had gone silent, but then picked back up again, including a couple from Sharon that Steve did not appear to have answered. She spoke about waking up in what had been her apartment to find another family was living in it and having to leave. She spoke about contacting her cousins and being relieved to find that the house they lived in was still intact and not given over to another family, but they were all there, alive and accounted for, and that she was heading there. She sent a handful of texts to Steve asking him to call her, but oddly, he seemed not to have responded. Why had he not responded? Peggy scrolled further back to before the 2017 snap, and read with a cold sensation the text that Sharon had sent Steve in 2014. _She's gone. In her sleep_.

Peggy did not have to be told who they were talking about. She knew.

Doing the math in her head, she figured that she would be around 95 years old at the time of her death, and the date of the message gave her the exact date. It was some information that should have terrified her, but instead she felt a weird sense of peace. To know.

She scrolled some more through their messages, but it looked as if there was some unspoken incident that Sharon wanted to talk to Steve about, and he seemed unwilling to talk about it. _"We need to talk about what happened," _she wrote. _"I don't think we do," _he responded. Sharon had not pressed further, although that was not to say that the conversation did not continue in real life. What had happened between them? Deciding she wasn't getting any more information from the messages, she backed out.

Some more searching of the icons brought up a gallery of photographs. This Peggy settled in to pay extra attention to. There were several pictures, mostly of some of the same people in different shots, and she could not easily figure out who was who. She toggled back-and-forth between the phone function and the pictures several times and eventually began putting names to faces. Howard's son was pretty easy to pick out, she had already suspected that the man in the photographs was related to Howard just from the strong resemblance, though the contact in the phone list confirmed it. There was a picture of Tony next to a pretty red haired woman that he was hugging, and Peggy wondered if they were a couple. This must be Pepper. Several other images included a young woman in her early 30s with auburn red hair and intense dark eyes and a sardonic smile who had the name Natasha Romanoff in the contact list. Steve had spoken of her, sadly admitting during his story that the young woman had died in whatever altercation had finally allowed Steve to return to her. Peggy stared at the young woman and saw the hint of sadness in the girl's eyes behind her brave glare. Peggy felt a small pang of sadness for the woman she would never meet who had met such a tragic life of difficulty and only a few years of friendship with the group Steve had described as the Avengers. Another young woman, younger than the Natasha but with similar brownish red hair appeared in several other pictures. The contact list named her as Wanda Maximoff. Steve had only touched on how the young woman exhibited telekinetic powers, had lost her twin brother and her entire country and had joined their group. Other pictures had no names or contacts to connect, but the image of a mechanical looking man with red skin must be the android Vision that Steve had mentioned. Hawkeye, Sam, all of them she managed to put faces and names to by connecting the dots with the contact list. A muscular blonde man in one picture must be Thor, the God of Thunder, and she studied him carefully, knowing that if Steve was correct, this was the man that ancient myths and legends had been based upon. He definitely looked like a Viking.

But then there were a few pictures of the pretty blonde girl, the one named Sharon Carter. There was one of her wearing a comfortable looking sweater and jeans, leaning up against a doorway of a house, one hand raised in a half wave with a smile on her face. There was another of her sitting on a porch with a group of what looked like a large extended family, with two family units of slightly older parents and their teenage children. Peggy stared at the people in the picture, noting that they seemed incredibly familiar, but she couldn't place them. Something about the older man's eyes seemed familiar, and then with a start, she realize that one of the older women resembled Peggy herself very strongly. The teenagers grouped around them seemed to resemble their parents, and one of the teenage boys seemed so familiar that it took Peggy a minute to place why the child jolted her so much. He looked a lot like Daniel Sousa, the coworker whom she had begun developing feelings for and had begun a relationship with only a week before. She and Daniel had come to rely on each other quite a bit in their work, and she admitted that she felt strong emotion toward him, though it was different from what she had felt towards Steve. She had not been able to fully think out her feelings towards Daniel, and it was made more complicated by Steve's sudden arrival, but now looking at this picture of Sharon Carter with what had to be her family, Peggy suddenly flushed with the cold realization that she was looking at her own family. Her future family. The one she would have with Daniel. Two of the adults in the picture were definitely Peggy's, for one of the older men seemed to have her eyes but resembled Daniels face, and the older woman looked a lot like Peggy herself. So Sharon Carter was indeed her niece, and Peggy was looking at her grown children and grandchildren.

She bit back a sob and tried to stifle the tears that sprung to her face. Who are these people and what were they like? What were her children's names? Her grandchildren? If Peggy herself was not in this picture, did that mean that she had already passed away? Had she been important to them? She was reluctant to swipe on and look at other pictures, but she knew she couldn't sit here staring at the family all morning. Steve would be waking up soon. She swiped to the next picture and saw an image of what looked like Steve and Sharon sitting close together, Sharon's arm extended out of the shot, probably holding the camera that had taken this picture. Their heads leaned close together and both wore comfortable smiles, Steve friendly but serious, and Sharon somewhat jocular, even a little flirtatious. Peggy stared at this picture too. She swiped some more, but there were only two other pictures of Sharon, one of her asleep in an easy chair, and another one of her that looked like it came from a personnel file, as she was wearing some sort of suit outfit, and wore a rather stern expression, not at all like the comfortable smiles of the pictures of her with her family and Steve. She swiped back to the picture of Sharon and the family, and then back to the one of Sharon with Steve. She noticed that the way their heads tilted towards each other that indicated a comfortable familiarity. She was a profiler by nature, and she knew at least the man in the picture well enough to make some inferences, or at least she thought so once. These two knew each other a lot longer than Steve had let on. If Sharon was, like Peggy, an intelligence officer and a spy, she would maintain a certain level of aloofness even with those that she knew, which Peggy could see in the family picture in the way that Sharon sat it to one side, in the picture and smiling, comfortable with the people, but not leaning into them as if they were a significant part of her emotional base. But in this picture, with Steve, that comfortable familiarity was evident. She felt a strange sensation creep up her spine. Was there something Steve had not told her about Sharon?

She started to back out of the photo application when her finger, slid across pictures again and landed on one that looked like Natasha Romanoff dozing on a couch. There was something different about this picture, it looked as if there was a small ghostly triangle in the middle of it. On a hunch, she pressed the triangle. To her surprise the image began to move and slight voices came out of tiny speakers at the bottom of the device. It was some sort of video device as well! Pressing the volume switch, she adjusted the volume to where she could hear it, but it would not be loud enough to be heard in the next room. She held it up close to her face as she watched what looked like the group preparing to play a prank on Natasha. Steve had mentioned that for a brief time, some of them had been in hiding, including Sharon, which Peggy had figured most of these pictures had been taken. They were in some sort of house, and she watched as her niece carefully crept up behind the sleeping woman, with a conspiratorial smile on her face, looked at whoever was holding the video camera, possibly Steve as she heard his voice murmur "be careful, she'll break your wrist," and Sharon smiled before lunging forward, grabbing the hood of the light jacket Natasha was wearing, pulling it over her head and down over her eyes, and yelling "spy attack!"

Instinctively, Sharon dropped to the floor and sprang up several feet away out of reach, avoiding the reflexive swing of the other woman's fist as Natasha deftly sprang to her feet, the hood still covering her eyes, and turn in the direction of her joking assailant, as Sharon stood up, laughing. Natasha threw the hood back and glared at Sharon, grabbing a pillow from the couch and hurling it Sharon's head, yelling "DAMNIT CARTER!"

Sharon laughed harder, and fixed the other woman with a good-natured but snarky smile, saying "tag you're it!"

"Oh really?" Natasha said with a smile that made Peggy realize that if there were no humor in her eyes, would be a deadly glare. She briefly wondered if her niece was suicidal. But as Sharon kept laughing, Natasha devolved into giggles as well, the intensity of the moment broken. In that instance, Peggy could see that her niece and the former Russian spy were actually very good friends and the joke was taken with the humor it was intended. Natasha snagged up another pillow and the two women good-naturedly swatted each other with the pillows before Steve's voice came over saying "OK, OK, that's good for now." And the video ended.

"Peggy?" came Steve's voice behind her.

She dropped the phone and turned around. He was standing in the doorway, looking sleepy and disheveled, and somewhat sad. He leaned in the doorway, dropping his head.

She was surprised to find herself wary of him, wondering if he would be mad at her. She knew she should apologize for investigating his personal device, whatever it was. It was an invasion of his privacy. Even she didn't have the right to do that. He might even have shown her the device on his own at some point later. But right now, what she had done was akin to reading his diary and sifting through his mail, maybe even going through his underwear drawer. If reading someone else's mail in this time period was illegal, was reading someone's letters on devices like this illegal in the future? She had so many questions, but right now she knew she would be lucky if he didn't grab the device and storm out and never see her again. She knew he would not, though, for he had not gone through what he had to return to her, only to leave over this. Or had he? It was clear from what she had learned from the device that he had been close to these people, they had been more than just acquaintances and friends, they had been family. He perhaps even might have been starting something with Sharon, her niece, from the looks of the familiarity of the picture of the two of them. That was a little weird, but she found herself oddly understanding it. If Sharon had grown up listening to Peggy's stories of Captain America, had been part of an intelligence agency that had files on him, that would make her one of the few people in the 21st-century who knew more about Steve then he might know about himself.

She opened her mouth, trying to find the right words to say, but he gently waved her down. "Well," he said, "I see you found my cell phone."

"Is that what this is?" she asked, picking it up off the floor, relieved to see that it had not shattered.

"I'm honestly surprised that the plug works," he said trying to keep the conversation neutral. "The battery died not long after I got here, and I was a little hesitant to plug it in. I probably shouldn't have brought it. But it was the only thing I had of the Avengers and the people I had known from the future. I was willing to come back here without any pictures or anything of them, but since it all fits on the phone, I figured I could just keep it out of sight. And here I am, you find it the first night we're back together."

To her surprise, Peggy found herself stiffening a little at his words about them being back together just like that. It seemed a little presumptuous, like absolutely nothing about her had changed to the point where he could come here nearly three years later and pick up like nothing had happened. She hadn't been put in suspended animation, frozen in time from the last point he had talked to her. A lot had happened since then. And were they back together? He seemed to assume they were, and her own logic would dictate that of course they were, for she had always loved him, missed him terribly, and she had just slept with him. If that didn't dictate being back in a relationship, what did? But then her mind flashed to Daniel, kissing her in the office. The picture of her grandchildren with their families on his...phone. She decided she wanted answers.

He slowly approached, coming to stand next to her, pulling the power cord from the wall and gently taking the phone. He flipped through it a few times to ensure himself that it had not broken when she dropped it.

"I was folding your clothes," she started to explain, "and I felt it in there. I was curious. It didn't seem explosive, so…"

He chuckled. "No it doesn't explode, unless you leave it in the sun, apparently. How much of it have you seen? I see you found the pictures."

She shrugged. "I don't know what all is on it, so I couldn't say. I saw conversations and pictures and that Candy Crush game. That game must be addictive. I had a hard time putting it down."

"Yeah, Natasha put it on there for me, something about how it supposed to relieve stress. Personally I found it more stressful to play it. There are a lot of free games for these devices, I prefer word puzzles."

"It's an amazing device," she said. She trailed off as music came from the speakers, as Steve had activated one of the icons that she had not yet tried that had a musical note on it. She took it from him and scrolled through the screen, seeing a list of songs that she recognized, and some she did not.

"It plays music too?" she asked.

"And movies. And books being read out loud, as well as books you can read in another application. It does a lot of things. When I first found myself in the 21st-century, they gave me one of these loaded with music and movies and shows that I had apparently missed, books and stuff to try and catch me up on history and culture. People kept making jokes and culture references that I didn't get, mostly because I had not been exposed to the same entertainment they had."

Peggy suddenly looked at him sharply. "Did any of that include lessons on what had happened between 1940 and 2012, politically? Surely several things have happened in the world in between those years?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably, and she knew that he understood what she was asking. Did he have working knowledge of events and atrocities that were going to happen that have not yet happened?

"Yes, some," he whispered.

"Quite a lot of it not good, I would imagine," she pressed.

"Some of it is," he said. "But not all of it. Some of it is really good. In the next few years, someone will discover a way to prevent polio."

Her eyebrows raised. "Well that's a relief. But what about wars, accidents, natural disasters? I know there will probably be some, because that's just how humanity is. Do you know when these things are going to happen?"

Steve nodded, saying, "Not exact dates. But some."

"And your plan is what exactly?" she asked. "Knowing that these things are coming, are you going to do anything about them?"

"I can't," he replied sadly. "I'm not completely convinced about the whole time travel stuff as it was explained to me, and while I believe that my friends are in a different timeline than the one I'm currently sitting in with you, I don't want to take the chance. If I alter their history too much, quite a few of them might not even be born."

She took the phone from him and went back to the picture icon, scrolling until she found the picture of Sharon with her family. "Them, for example?" she asked.

Steve visibly flinched. "I forgot that picture was still on the phone," he said.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"Sharon's cousins," he said evasively. He tapped on the image of Sharon in the picture. "That's Sharon. Your niece."

"Yes, I figured that out," said Peggy. "She's cute. But I need you to tell me the truth, is this my family too? Are these my children and grandchildren?"

Steve looked away. "Yes," he whispered.

Peggy stared at the picture again, the music still coming from the speakers of the device in her hand. She stared at each face, then coming to rest on Sharon.

"What are their names?" she asked.

"Peggy, I don't think..." he started.

He winced at the sharp look she gave him. This was not turning out quite like he had expected. With a sigh, he began to point out everyone in the picture. Cathy, her daughter. Cathy's husband Jeff and children, Jack, Hannah and Ryan. Her son Ed, whom she realized immediately must have been named for Edwin Jarvis. Ed's wife Cynthia, and two sons Dan and Jude. Her grandson, she knew, had been name for his grandfather. So it was really a matter of confirming what she already knew when she turned to him.

"Are they yours as well?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. But I can't tell you anything else."

She only nodded, already knowing the answer. She flipped to the picture of Sharon and Steve. She saw him flinch again.

"Tell me about Sharon," she said.

"What do you want to know?" he asked. "I can't tell you much about her back history either, I don't want to change it."

Peggy mentally registered that Steve knew enough about Sharon's backstory to know what not to tell her. She guessed that he probably didn't have the same amount of knowledge about his other friends, except maybe Tony, just because he had also known Howard. "Tell me what you can," she said.

Steve look down at the picture, his gaze softening some which Peggy noticed. "She's really smart. Like you. She makes connections that I never see, especially between bits of information. She sarcastic. More than you. She's grown up at a time where people are far more jaded. She has a sense of humor, something even bordering on gallows humor. A group of us were on the run for a while, and she was with us. She would be the one to make jokes about the situation. She and Natasha were friends, roommates at one point. She likes way too much sugar in her coffee, and she likes it flavored with hazelnut flavoring. Oh yeah, flavored coffees are the thing with these kids. Personally I never got it. Nobody seems to like just straight coffee anymore. I tease her about having some coffee with her sugar. She would usually respond by flipping me off. She took up crochet in college as a form of stress relief. Only she doesn't just make little scarves and baby blankets. She makes weird stuff, like undead monster teddy bears and aliens. She made a hat for Natasha once that said "F- it's cold" around the brim."

Peggy burst out laughing. "That's my girl," she managed to get out. "And my children? I'm guessing Sharon followed me into my profession, but did any of them?"

"No," said Steve. "They lead pretty normal lives, regular jobs and such. Sharon prefers it that way. She doesn't see them much, not because she doesn't want to, but because she wants to keep them separate from the life that she's had to live following you into intelligence. It's safer that way. Both you and she have infuriated some seriously evil people over the course of nearly a century, people whose friends would love to take it out on some civilians who mattered to the Carters."

Peggy sobered up immediately, the laughter dying in her chest. She knew exactly what Steve was talking about, and her heart suddenly ached for the niece she didn't know yet whom she knew was probably leading a very lonely life, keeping herself separated from those she cared about for the sake of protecting them.

"It can be isolating," she said, looking down at the picture of Sharon and Steve. "But if you find someone to share it with, it makes it easier. Worth it. Even spies are human. Everybody needs somebody."

Steve drew her close to him, his arm around her shoulder and rested his head on top of hers. She snuggled against him, but she was thinking about Daniel. Steady and reliable Daniel, with his sardonic wit, and down to earth approach to everything. Daniel, who had just broken off his engagement with Violet when Peggy had admitted that she had feelings for him. Daniel, who was almost as isolated from their colleagues as she was due to his disability, and their assumption that he wasn't good for much, but was only there for a charity case, as was she. Together, they had proven their colleagues wrong and had earned some measure of respect by being so good at what they did that it was impossible to keep up the stereotype. What she felt for Daniel was different from what she felt for Steve. Her love for Steve was bright and burning, consuming in an exciting way, the way youthful love often was. But she wondered how long it would last. She had no doubt that her love for Steve could evolve into a more reliable and permanent love, but what she felt for Daniel was already such a thing. She was never overly in love with Daniel, but had come from a different direction, caring for him as a friend, and then slowly growing to love him for what he was. It was slower, lower key, but firm and strong. And she could sense Steve's conflicted emotions about Sharon. He was attempting to keep his voice neutral, to speak of her in the same tone as he did the others but she could hear in his voice what he tried to hide, see it in the softening of his expression when he talked about her. Sharon was different to him. And he was trying not to admit it.

"What did they think," she asked, "when you said you were going to come back here and presumably not return?"

Again, Steve squirmed uncomfortably. "I did not tell them," he admitted. "I knew they were going to try and talk me out of it."

Now she looked at him in real shock. "You didn't tell them!? Why ever not?"

"Like I said, they would not have approved. They would've tried to talk me out of it. I didn't want to have to argue with anybody."

"So instead you snuck off without even saying goodbye?" she asked. "That's not like you at all. At least not the man I know. That was cowardly Steve."

Steve looked surprised. "I wrote them all a letter that I arranged to have arrive after I was gone. I explained myself in those letters."

"Do they all have time travel devices, or is this the only one?" she asked, pointing to the device on his wrist where he had replaced it when he put his clothes back on.

"They don't all have one, but there are multiple copies of it. So some of them do."

"So what's the stop one of them from coming back to find you?" she asked. "From their perspective, you just disappeared in time somewhere. They don't know if you're hurt or trapped. They might try to come back and find you, and might end up messing up the timeline, just like you're afraid of doing just being here. And if they do find you, then what? You're going to just tell them to go home and never come back?"

"I already explained how it works," he said, "altering their past doesn't change their future, because this is a different reality from the one they live in. But I don't think they will, if they get my letters. And I think Bucky knew, before I left. It was the way he said goodbye. He would probably explain it to them."

She stood up from where they had been sitting at the table, and stared at the man in front of her. "You left Bucky behind in the 21st-century? After everything you've just said, and what he must have gone through, you just left him there? I thought he was your friend?"

"Of course he is," said Steve, "but he has his own life to live. Once I knew he would be OK and had the Avengers to back him up, I knew it was OK to go."

"Even though he's only known them for a couple of days from his perspective?" asked Peggy. "Would you appreciate being left with a bunch of strangers, some of whom you might not be on good terms with, while your best friend booked out to where ever and whenever he wanted to? And how long were you with these people? Five years? More?"

"A little over ten years," Steve admitted.

"And yet they are not as important to you s me and the Commandos? You only knew the lot of us for two years during a war, but I'm guessing you went on for more missions with these Avengers of yours than you did with the Commandos."

"It's not a question of length of time," he argued, "but quality. I love you, that's why I'm here."

"And I love you," she admitted, "but I have to say, it really upsets me to hear all this. You formed deep relationships with these people, I can see it in the pictures and in the messages you all sent each other. And yet you turn your back on them as soon as you have a way to travel through time because you think you will be happy you're here? It's nostalgic for you, too yearn for the home you left behind, were forcibly taken from. But I'll tell you something, Steve, it's something we're all learning here, those of us who are only two years out of the war. You can't go back home. It's never the same. We tend to remember our past homes with comfort and only the good stuff, never the bad stuff. We create an idealistic image in our memories in the past where we were happy. But that's no guarantee it would make you happy now. You're not the same man that I knew, and though I still love you, I promise you I'm not the same person you left behind either. A lot has happened to me, especially in the last two years, none of which I have had a chance to tell you. Stuff that matters."

He stood. "Peggy, I know that. I understand all you're saying, but none of that will change how much I care about you."

"I care about you to Steve," she said. "More than I can ever say. But from where I'm standing, it seems to me that you found yourself in a completely different world in the future, and rather than adapt, grow and move on, instead you firmly fixed your mind back here in this time with me, and didn't even give anything or anyone else a chance. This kid Natasha, the one who died in the last mission, how do you feel about her?"

He seemed confused. "I cared about her, of course, and I'm devastated. She was a good person and only had a short chance in her life to show it. She was like a sister to me. I'm furious that she's gone. I cried for her. We all did."

"And Tony too I imagine, Howard's son? What of his wife and child? Wouldn't your friends be needing you right now?" she asked. "To draw comfort from? In times like this, we all support each other. And even if they have each other, they don't have you. And don't say they don't need you, because even if you don't need them, I can see that they needed you, look to you for leadership. I could see it in their eyes in these pictures with how they look at you."

"Sam will lead them now," he said matter of factly.

Now she was getting angry. "You're trying to avoid the point I know that you know I'm trying to make."

"What are you saying, Peggy? You're saying that you think I should go back?" he asked looking stricken.

She turned away, looking out the window. Does she want him to leave? The truth was, no she really didn't. Last night had been wonderful, and she could certainly get used to that for the rest of her life. She knew she would be happy with him. She had always treasured the relationship, brief as it had been, and the impact it had made on her, made her aspire to be a better person and live up to the standard he unknowingly set in her mind. But the man who was sitting here in her kitchen explaining away what he had left behind without a backward glance alarmed her.

"No, Steve," she sat quietly, "I don't want you to go back. But what I want is not important. I want you to do what is right."

"And what is that?" he asked.

"What happened between you and Sharon?" she asked suddenly, still looking out the window.

She heard him catch his breath in his throat.

"What makes you think anything happened?" he asked.

She noticed his evasion again, answering her question with a question. "The messages," she said simply. "She mentions something happening between the two of you, and you not being willing to discuss it. I saw that she was gone for the five years after the Decimation you mentioned, which means she was one of the ones who was lost. Right?"

"Yes," said Steve quietly. "She was one of the ones."

"The messages start back up again five years later," said Peggy. "She sent you several messages asking to speak to you, but you never responded. Why?"

Steve didn't answer. He wasn't sure what to say. Peggy answered for him.

"Because you're afraid if you saw her, talked to her, your resolve about coming back here would weaken. You would remember why you cared about her, what she represented, a chance to start over in a new lifetime. You didn't say goodbye to her, did you?"

"No," he admitted, trying to keep the tears out of his voice.

"You left her," said Peggy quietly, feeling the tears well up in her own eyes. She knew nothing about her niece beyond the few pictures she saw on Steve's device and what he had told her, but she felt her heart flood with an unmeasurable amount of pride in the girl who was her legacy, who had obviously put up with Steve, with little reciprocation from him. The girl who had followed her into intelligence when her own children had not. The girl who, despite her nature towards cynicism and being jaded, kept her sense of humor even in the face of disappointment, sadness and hardship. Peggy felt a sudden rush of overwhelming love for her niece, followed by heart crushing sorrow. Sorrow in that she suspected the girl was probably in love with Steve, but denying it and hiding it, because she knew it was a good possibility that he did not feel the same way, and for undoubtedly what people would say about her being involved with the man so closely associated to her great aunt. Who had been blinked out of existence and suddenly found herself back five years later, in what had to be a disorienting experience. And she had gotten not even a goodbye from Steve.

"She has the family," said Steve. "Every time I come into her life, I destroy it. Because of me, she's lost her job twice, has had to go on the run as a fugitive, and we didn't part on good terms during that period. Leaving her behind to salvage her life was probably the kindest thing I could've done to her."

Peggy turned to look at him. "Tell me what happened. Please tell me you didn't hurt her."

Steve hung his head. "Not intentionally."

He told her a brief account of how Sharon had spent two years across the hall from him looking out for him under cover, not telling him who she was. How they had met years later, though he did not mention it was at Peggy's own funeral. He told her about how Sharon had helped him find Bucky who had been falsely accused of a crime, helping them escape the authorities, which had caused her to have to go on the run. How they had all lived in safe houses together, off and on for two years, coming and going on their own, eventually running their own missions here and there. Then he told Peggy of how there had been an issue in a developing nation involving human atrocities, women and children being sold as slaves. His undercover group decided to go in and address the problem, but he had left Sharon behind, being unwilling to expose her to danger. He had left without letting her know, she had been furious when they got back. The team had mostly agreed with her, especially Natasha, that Steve should not have left her behind, that she was either one of them or she was not.

Deciding that she was not going to hang around when she was not needed, she had made plans to leave in the morning for some other location out-of-the-way. Later that night, Steve had gone to her room to talk her out of it, not wanting her to leave under these circumstances. Their heated argument had escalated to them letting off steam by furiously kissing each other, eventually ending up on her bed. They had already kissed once before when she had given him his gear, but this was different, more intense. He didn't elaborate further, but left no doubt for Peggy as to what had happened. Ultimately, Sharon had decided to stay, but it was only a week later that Wanda had gone off the grid to stay with Vision, and the lot of them decided to follow her to Scotland to make sure she was OK. Not long after that Thanos invaded, followed by the Snap, and Sharon was gone. She had sent him a handful of texts, wanting to talk happened between them, but then she was gone and five years passed, where Steve had tried to readjust to a world without her in it. When Bruce brought everyone back using the Infinity stones, he had opted not to contact her, figuring that it was best that she just rebuild her life from scratch as he had tried to do. That, and he didn't know what to say to her. He didn't know where she fit in his life, what he wanted or didn't want from her. So he had opted to simply turn his back, his mind already made up to come to the past.

Peggy did her best to keep her expression neutral as Steve recounted his story with Sharon. She figured she did a good job, but she was having a hard time trying to keep the horror from her face. This was most definitely not the man she had known during the war. That man would never have done such things. Steve was only human, she realized, and she understood his motivations for most of what he was telling her, but his treatment of his friends and Sharon was almost overwhelming. And he claimed to care for these people.

"Peggy, please say something," he said looking worried. She realized she had been silent for several minutes. "You're mad, aren't you?"

"A little," she admitted, "but mostly I'm horrified."

"Horrified?" he asked, confused.

"If you did not have the ability to time travel, to come back here, retreat here if you will," she asked, "what would you have done? Would you have gone to find her? Try to mend what you have with her? Stay with your friends? Would you have withdrawn as a recluse somewhere? If you couldn't come back to me, what was your plan then?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"Do you love her? " she asked him point-blank.

"I...care about her. I care about all of them," he admitted.

"Think of her with someone else," said Peggy. "Maybe someone who doesn't treat her properly. Or maybe someone who does, someone she has children with. How does that make you feel?"

As she expected, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes before firm resolve set in. "I would be happy for her, if she were happy," he said.

"You wouldn't be happy," said Peggy. "You'd just be accepting. If you had no way of coming back here to me, but had to watch her with someone else, you would be miserable. Does she love you?"

"She's never said," he said evasively.

"And I don't blame her," said Peggy with an ironic smile. "We spies are a cautious lot. It takes a lot to gain our trust enough for us to open up and love someone. We always just figure we're going to be hurt. If how you've acted is your normal way with her, she's probably decided to keep you at arm's length."

"Wait, so you're actually OK with the idea of me dating your niece?" said Steve.

"Not if you're going to treat her this way, or anybody for that matter," said Peggy. "Right now I'm contemplating kicking your ass for what you've done. Only given the fact that I know you're a good man has stopped me so far. And it probably wouldn't be a fair fight anyway. Everybody makes mistakes, but I've got to say Steve, I'm wondering under what circumstances will you decide that things aren't working out here with me and decide to bug out to another timeline with another me and try to start over?"

He looked shocked. "Peggy! I would not do that. Ever."

"You've already done it," she pointed out. "To them. You're here looking for greener pastures, because what you left behind, your primary timeline, was so overwhelming that you didn't think you could deal. You came running back to a point in time where you thought you would feel safe, were you would have me, but could live without the guilt of knowing that those people in the picture on your phone would never be born in my life if I stayed with you. And you were willing to never let me know that, were you? If I never found that picture of my family on your phone, I would never have known about them, because with you, they won't be born. Not as they are in that picture. They live in the time you just came from, but they wouldn't live in mine. And I would be none the wiser."

"Peggy…" he started, looking miserable.

"I don't know how this all works," she admitted. "I don't know if I'm the same person of your past or if I'm someone different. The man who formed the memories of my mind is still frozen in an ice block somewhere. The 'me' of your memories is probably dead and buried by now."

"But we are the same people," he insisted.

She came over and hugged him. "Steve, I'm so sorry about what happened to you, since you have been so hurt by it. But I don't know that I can ever condone you running away from it."

He hugged her back, the tears beginning to fall from his eyes into her hair.

"I'm so sorry," he groaned into her neck.

"I know darling," she soothed." I know. I want you to be happy, but not at the expenses of the choices I might have made for myself. Or anyone else."

"You want me to go back," he said, not asking as a question.

She was quiet for a long minute, before replying, "Yes. Go back to them, to where you belong. Your timeline. To your real life. It would only be a fantasy, you staying here, living someone else's life."

He choked a sob into her hair, and dropped his head against her shoulder.

"You're not my Steve of this reality," she said, "but you are Steve of the same soul, and I love you."

His tears flowed freely now. He didn't want to hear what she was saying, but he knew deep down it was true. He no longer belonged here. Even with her. It was why he had told no one of his plan to leave. Why he had not contacted Sharon. Not wanted to see Peggy's grown family. He had always known deep down that it was wrong. He didn't belong here, but did he belong anywhere? He suddenly thought of Sharon, how she had looked the morning after their first night together, her smile and how she had compared him to an adorable sleepy golden retriever. Her honest open smile, her tolerating and forgiving blue eyes, the sun shining through her golden hair. He had actually felt peace that morning, for the first time in ages, knowing she had stuck by him but would tolerate no bullshit from him either. He had ached at the thought of leaving her behind, but he had been so swept up in having seen Peggy again, he had tunnel vision over it and had forced his mind to push her and everyone aside. But if he were honest, he already missed them all. Missed her.

It actually surprised him, how forcefully he missed Sharon. In his own timeline, he hadn't seen her in five years. He was different to Peggy, but he'd also be different to Sharon. What if he went back and it didn't work out? What if he stayed here and it didn't work out?

"You never cried for her did you?" asked Peggy. "All of them. When they disappeared?"

Steve shook his head, the force of that loss overwhelming him, after years of trying to bury it. He had never cried properly for the loss of his world from the 1940s, the trauma of trying to adjust to the 21st-century, the fracturing of the Avengers, and losing to Thanos which included losing so many people he cared about. Although he and Sharon had been off and on for the two years in which they were fugitives, he had tried to keep her at an arms distance, not sure if he was even allowed to feel anything more for her than just friendship and maybe a casual physical thing. But when he had frantically texted and tried to call her after the Snap, and she had not answered, he had been more devastated than he had care to admit. He had gone to the apartment where he knew she was staying temporarily, and had found no sign of her. He had gathered up her personal belongings and brought them back to the compound, but losing her so suddenly only compounded the unprocessed feelings he had felt from Peggy. In the five years that followed, he had buried his feelings for Sharon as far down as he could. Told himself that he was better off alone, and had focused more heavily on the past, specifically Peggy, not allowing himself to remember that she had somehow found a way to move on without him, have a career and a life and a family and even be happy at it.

The sheer force of what he had done it him like a runaway train. Stone cold sobriety washed over him as he saw his situation the way Peggy surely must see it. Like most soldiers of his time, he had never completely processed his experiences in World War II. He had never come to terms with losing 70 years of his life and waking up in a different century, only to find that everyone and everything he knew was gone. Or had moved on without him. All of his experiences with the Avengers, both good and bad, and the relationship with Sharon that had so much potential that he had purposely try to derail. Then, unable to handle the enormity of losing to Thanos and losing half of the population in the world, he had retreated to the last time he had felt comfortable and safe, and that was Peggy. His love for her was the youthful kind of first love, the kind that burns bright and fierce and is remembered for a lifetime. But unless that kind of love evolves into something more stable, it frequently burns out. Life experience and maturity changes a relationship dynamic into something that two mature people can live with, or they part ways. Steve knew that if enough time were given, the love he and Peggy felt for each other would probably evolve into something more permanent and stable. But he was already a different person, and so was she. When he stepped back from his selfish mind tunnel in which he had encased himself, he began to see it.

But Sharon had wanted him for the man he was, not the fantasy or past version of himself. She had seen the darkness in his soul and had stayed anyway.

He recalled what Sharon had told him about the years following the war as Peggy attempted to fit in at her workplace, and he realize that she must be in the middle of that now, which was undoubtedly causing her to become more centered and realistic, more subdued. And by now she would already know the man she eventually married in the other timeline. Likely they had already started the beginnings of the relationship. As his crying began to subside, he came to the realization that Peggy had already moved on without him. If he decided to stay, she would stay with him. He knew she would. Daniel would be hurt, but he would probably move on as he already had in other areas of his life. Their children would not be born, but there might be other children, his children. There would be atrocities and hardships in the next 78 years that he could either ignore or try to do something about. But at the end of the day, he would either have to be content with remaining in this timeline as Thanos destroyed it, and returning back to the primary timeline as an old man, having lived this life but once again leaving it behind when it no longer suited him. Peggy was right to fear that he would do that at any time. What he had already done in coming here was selfish enough, in her place he would totally suspect that that same selfishness would cause him to peace out when it suited him.

"I'm sorry Peggy," he said. He didn't have to say for what. She already knew. For the way he failed to consider her or anyone else, for his failure to move on with his life, for his turning his back on people who still needed their friend if not their leader, for everything that had brought him to this point.

"I know you are," she whispered, her arms wrapped around him, rubbing his back.

"How did you do it?" he asked. "How did you move on? When it hurts so much?"

"Not easily," she admitted. "I'm still trying. Some days are harder than others. I threw myself into my work, and tried to ignore the pain. I still do most days. The hardest part was being alone, without my family nearby, and not many friends to speak of. You at least had a fairly large network of friends."

"Not at first," he said.

"Me neither," she said. "But I started to make friends. Angie, Jarvis, and of course the Commandos. I wouldn't say I'm the height of a social butterfly, but I'm not alone. That helps. Doing normal stuff, getting back into a life you choose with in the situation you find yourself. That helps. I do work that I know is meaningful, it gives me a purpose. But probably what is most important is feeling needed."

Steve nodded, but said nothing. She was right, he felt best when he felt needed somewhere. Perhaps one of the hardest things to overcome following his resurrection from the ice, and then Thanos, was the idea that he really wasn't needed, or that the world had gone on without him. Those who had needed him were gone. And that had made it easier to see him as if his intention to return and stay in the 1940s was the best course of action.

He wanted to ask if she needed him, but the words stalled on his tongue, because the truth of it was, he knew that she didn't. At this point, she had learned not to need him, and had begun relying on others. Daniel. What she said made sense, because the only conversation he had ever had with Sharon about her uncle seemed to indicate that Peggy and Daniel had worked best not just because of a mutual love and respect, but because they had needed each other. His relationship with Sharon had also been built on a similar need, the need for support and comfort in the face of a mutual shared experience of loss. Both of them had lost Peggy, had lost their entire world for which they had worked towards, and had been fugitives from unfair law. If he were being honest, he and Sharon had worked out because they understood each other. She was, perhaps, the only person in the 21st-century who had truly understood him. That had scared him, and so he had backed away, walking away and then returning. And then walking away again. Their victory over Thanos would have brought her back, but would she still need him? What if he returned, and she wanted nothing to do with him? He would have to move on from there too. But he now understood that he could not stay here. He no longer had a place in Peggy's life, and if he continued to insist that she had a place in his, despite his love for her, she would be an anchor, holding him firmly in the past and not letting him evolve forward.

He had been moving backwards, and had been willing to bring her with him.

Gradually the tears subsided and he backed away from her. Only enough, he felt somewhat lighter, as if a weight has been lifted off of his chest, one that he had not realized I had even been there. He still felt a heaviness and sorrow over Sharon and everybody back in the future, but as for Peggy, he seemed oddly lighter, resolved. It must be how Tony and Thor felt after finally being able to talk with their parents and get closure. He smiled at her and she smiled back. It was then that he noticed that his phone was still playing music, from this decade, and he was briefly grateful that it had not transitioned into the 1970s disco music that Tony had loaded onto his phone in attempt to expose him to music from every decade that he had missed. As "It's been a long, long time" played, he stood up and held out his hand.

"I believe I still owe you that dance," he said with a smile.

Laughing, she stood up and took his hand and moved into his arms, and they swayed back-and-forth, oblivious to the fact that the sun had finally risen and the neighborhood was waking up as people left for their jobs. Cars passed on the road, but neither paid attention. He smiled down at her and she smiled back, then he kissed her, long and deep, one that was beyond overdue, because he was saying goodbye.

****

He stayed one more night, but they didn't repeat the previous night's activities, simply slept in each other's arms, knowing it would be the last time. There were some tears, and a few times Steve almost reconsidered his decision from yesterday to return to the 21st Century and stay after all, but it passed quickly and he knew he would have to return. Peggy finally got to fill him in on her life in the last two years following the war, what had gone on at the SSR, especially about Faustus and Dottie Underwood, at which point Steve cautiously admitted that Natasha had come from the same Red Room Academy as Dottie, and that it would likely go on for another forty years. Peggy just sighed in resolve, acknowledging that even with the little information he had told her, she would probably not be able to stop every atrocity that was on the horizon.

She told him about Daniel, about how steady he was, his sardonic sense of humor, and her appreciation for his standing beside her against their colleagues. But above all, she reassured him that she would be OK. Better than OK, now that she finally had the closure she needed with him. As much as it hurt, Steve knew she was right. He told her to give Howard a hug for him, but not too friendly a hug, and to make sure that Daniel took good care of her. She assured him that she would.

He let her have one final good long look at the picture of her family, and some of the pictures of Sharon. That's when he got the idea for her to record a message for them, as his phone could take videos, something that also amazed her. She sat in a chair while he sat nearby and pointed the phone at her. She seemed a little nervous, but then took a deep breath and started to speak.

"Hello my darlings. It's me. Your...mum. God this is so weird. Making a movie on a tiny screen for people who won't be born for years. I don't even know your names, or how old you will be when you see this. I don't know anything about how your lives have been so far. I don't know how you feel about me, but if my life continues on its current path with my job and all, there will be times when I will be away and not with you when you want me to be. I imagine that probably causes some resentment. I'm sorry if that happens, has happened. But I want you to know, all of you, that even though I don't know you yet, I already love you. I don't know yet the circumstances that will bring you into my life. I don't know for sure who will be by my side when it happens. I only know that it will be a hell of an adventure. A memorable one. Hopefully most of the memories will be good. Take care of each other when I'm not there. Get along with each other. I didn't always get along with my family, though it was a different time and they had different ideas. I don't want that to be the case with us. I know I will be proud of all of you. I can't wait to meet you."

Steve felt himself wiping away a tear, and was about to turn off the video, when Peggy continue talking, this time directing her comment to Sharon.

"And to my niece, your name I know. Unless your parents going change it after I record this. I think you are very courageous to have followed me into the field given what I know today about the direction the world is moving. I can't imagine the hardship you're going to have to deal with. I hope you have people who love you, support you. I don't always, and I surely could use it on some days. But remember, we don't do what we do for glory and prestige. We are spies, in all likelihood no one will ever know our name. It will be a thankless job, in fact when people who outrank us feel that there is a certain level of embarrassment because of our work, they will blame us for it. We will be disavowed and forgotten by the very governments we serve. We may have our lives destroyed, our honor besmirched and our very character questioned. But I know that you must be honorable, if Steve holds you in such high regard. That being the case, I'm proud of you. I am proud of your strength, your resolve and your intelligence. And if you ever falter, feel like maybe what you're doing isn't worth it, forget about the government you serve or the supervisors your answer to. Go down to a local park and watch some children playing. They don't know the difference between one day or another. They don't know about the race for nuclear weapons and the spy wars that heat up between countries. They don't know about Hydra, or interdimensional warlords. We do the job we do so they never have to. Remember that. And do me a favor, keep an eye on Steve. Clearly he can't be trusted to take care of himself. (snark) Don't let him be alone, even when he pushes you away. If nothing else, be his friend, even when it seems he doesn't want it. Because, I promise you, he does. Don't hold back from him because you might be afraid of what I would think. I'd rather him be with someone who understands him then some floozy with nothing between her ears. For God sake, don't let him and up with some floozy. And don't you settle for some fool yourself. Whoever you end up with, make sure he appreciates you. Make sure you take some time for yourself, and check in with the family every so often. Even if you think you're keeping them safe by staying away. I know that's probably what you're doing, because that's what I would do. I love you, darling. Take care of everybody for me. And will meet soon enough."

Peggy blew a kiss to the camera, which was Steve's cue he knew to turn it off. He didn't realize he was crying until he wiped his hand against his cheek and felt the wetness. It was probably the most fitting message that Peggy, fully in control of her faculties, still young and healthy, could send to her family. Steve had no idea when or if he would ever show them the video, or what their reactions with being, but he felt a sense of peace knowing that he could deliver such a message.

Steve pulled on every item of clothing he had been wearing when he arrived, double checked that his phone and the charger were indeed in his pocket, and that the time GPS was firmly fastened to his wrist. He knew that when he finally pressed the button to return, it would be the last time he would travel through time. But his destination was not the 21st-century just yet. He intended to make one more stop for some more Pym particles, since there were two things he still needed to do. He held Peggy close one more time, and kissed her. He whispered goodbye into her ear, and she whispered goodbye to him. Then, finally, she pushed him away.

"Time to go," she told him. "Promise me that you're going back to the 21st-century. Face your friends and form a new life. And give everybody a hug for me."

"I promise, and I will," he said giving her a smile.

He entered in the correct information to the time GPS, and activated the suit which quickly covered his form. He watched her eyes widen in amazement as the suit formed over his body. He clapped the helmet down over his head, and waved to her. Then, with his eyes lingering on her waving form, he push the button and vanished into thin air.

Daniel Sousa was flipping through the morning newspaper at the newsstand, trying to find some sort of headline that didn't make his stomach tighten in anxiety. From the looks of the world news, he was going to have his work cut out for him at the SSR for some time. He figured delving into his work was the best medicine he needed to try and get over how he had hurt Violet's feelings by breaking off the engagement, but he didn't regret his decision. He had a good feeling about Peggy, and he remembered how she had told him how she had once been engaged before the war, but her brother talked her out of it, though she had already known herself that her brother was right. He had no idea where things were going to go with Peggy, but he was hopeful. He still had insecurities about how he measured up to Steve Rogers, or if he ever would, but Peggy had done her best to assure him that she was not the sort of person to compare the men who had been in her life. He truly believed that she valued him for himself, and not as a replacement for someone she lost.

He paid for the newspaper, folded it and tucked under his arm, and adjusted his crutch, turning around to limp down the street towards his office. But as he turned around, he ran smack into someone who had been standing behind him. The other man stumbled back but regained his footing, giving him a sheepish smile from under a cap some kind. He had a bushy mustache and the clothes he wore seemed a little strange, not weird exactly, but cut and styled differently than Daniel was used to seeing. He was a little odd, but familiar somehow.

"I'm so sorry," the man said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to crowd you."

"That's OK," Daniel said a little gruffly. "I'm used to it. I frequently find myself in other people's way, though once I'm done training for the marathon that shouldn't be a problem."

The strange man's expression turned serious. "For the service to your country, you should never be considered in someone's way."

Daniel shrugged. "I wasn't the only one who served."

"No," the man agreed. "I did too. But you continue to serve. I saw you coming out of that government building. Even after everything, you're still serving the country, aren't you?"

"Yeah," said Daniel a little warily. His experiences in the last few years always seem to put him on guard. But when the man held out his hand, Daniel shook it. He wasn't sure why, but something about the stranger, odd as he was, made him feel as if he was trustworthy.

"Thank you," said the man. "For everything you've done, and everything you will do."

"Same to you," Daniel said a little awkwardly, unsure of what to say. The man nodded, and turn to walk down the street.

Daniel turned towards his office when he thought he heard the man mumble "take care of her."

But when he turned around fast, the man was gone. It was then that Daniel realized, he had not seen the man purchase anything from the newsstand. He briefly thought about alerting the office to a possible breach of security, since he didn't know the strange man's identity, but something told him to relax. That everything would be OK. Looking around one more time, not seeing the man, he turned and headed towards the building where the SSR had its headquarters, quickening his step when he saw Peggy rounding the corner heading for work as well.

***

The frigid arctic air whipped past the exposed wing of the Valkyrie bomber, mostly submerged in the ice. There was not a human being for over 500 miles, so there was no one around to see when the figure of a man in a futuristic suit materialized beside the bomber. The suit did little to protect him from the frigid cold, though he had already survived this environment before, for decades. Without wasting time, he quickly climbed up the wing of the bomber and slipped inside through a split in the side. Steve felt an ominous chill seep through his bones that had nothing to do with the cold that was nearly crushing his lungs. This brought up extreme flashbacks and memories of when he had first crashed this plane to save New York. When he had said goodbye to Peggy. When he had lost consciousness as the searing cold water seeped in over his legs, only to wake up 70 years later and a world he didn't recognize. It was ironic, however, that he was finding himself eager to get back to that world he had left behind but mystified him, after talking to Peggy and realizing that she had moved on along the path she was intended to walk, one without him, and he had to get back to his without her. But for what he intended to do, he needed a shield. And the one that had been by his side in the primary timeline had been destroyed in the battle with Thanos. This timeline would also see a battle with Thanos, one that would lose to him, maybe even wipe out all life in the universe as the evil alien had threatened to do during the battle. The version of Steve Rogers that was currently unconscious in a block of ice less than 50 feet from him would wake up believing his shield was lost in the crash. Eventually, he would probably get another one, but Steve needed this one, and knowing what he knew, he gave himself permission to take it.

It took a certain amount of searching to find it, for the battle with Red Skull had been vicious and quite a lot of things had fallen where they were not supposed to. That and Steve was not eager to approach the front of the plane where the inert form of himself was lying frozen, as it would be like looking down upon your own dead body in a coffin. Thankfully, he found the shield under a fallen piece of machinery, and securing it onto his arm, he looked back at his sleeping form not far away, obscured by the ice. He gave a quick salute, and a mental apology to what that man would face when he woke up, and then quickly set about setting the time GPS to where he wanted to go. He had managed to use what was left of his particles to travel to another 1970 timeline to get more Pym particles, but he knew he couldn't keep doing this. He had only needed them to talk to Daniel and to get the shield. Now he had just enough to make it back home. Home. Where he belonged. Double checking that the coordinates were correct and there was absolutely no margin for error, he pressed the button and felt himself dematerialize into the quantum realm. He forced down the nausea that threatened as he hurtled through the rainbow tunnel, jostled about through time and space. When his feet slammed onto the ground, causing him to stumble, he looked up and saw that he was indeed where he was supposed to be. He would have to verify it through watching the news and questioning everybody of course, but if he had aimed his device correctly, he now stood on what looked like the overgrown lawn of the Carter estate on May 5, 2023. 10 days after the battle that had defeated Thanos and his forces, but five days before he was set to travel through time to return the stones.

At first, he couldn't tell if anybody was home. He knew that Peggy and her husband, Daniel, had been given the land and house by Howard Stark as a wedding present. Along with that had come a fairly sophisticated security system that had been updated over the years, one that he knew had kept interlopers out during the five years after the Decimation. He had come to this place a few weeks after the Snap to check on Peggy's family and found them all missing. Even the grandchildren. There was a breakfast still on the table, and the television was still on. He had gone through the house securing it, turning off all the lights and securing the vehicles in the garage. He had thrown out all the perishables and made sure the house was fit for long-term inoccupancy. Then he had ensured that the security system was engaged, that no one could suddenly decide that the house belonged to them with nobody there, and he had left and never come back. Now he stood on the lawn that it had been mostly unattended and overgrown the last five years, though it look like someone had begun mowing on one side that slanted down the hill. He noticed that the cars had been moved out of the garage, and there were some other cars he didn't recognize. His ears picked up the sound of voices inside. Ready to determine if it was the place he needed to be, he took a step forward, and that's when he heard the disbelieving scream.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharon Carter's butt, back, and head all hit the ground at the same time, a split second before her legs followed, crashing to the ground and forcing the air from her lungs in a quick whoosh of air. She lay there, stunned, trying to determine at the same time if he had just suffered any injury, and what the hell had happened to land her on her ass. She did a mental inventory of her body, working through the muscle groups and appendages, wiggling toes and fingers and carefully moving her head from side to side. She seemed to be OK, but she had taken a hell of a fall. She tried to remember what she had just been doing that could have caused her to stumble like this, and at first her mind was a hazy blank darkness, but then she remembered, she had been standing at the window of the small apartment near the Mexican border that she had been renting, waiting to see if Steve was going to show up again after going after Wanda, when she started to feel very strange, and then terrible. She started feeling a weird prickling sensation all over her skin, and when she had looked down at her hand, to her horror, it had started to dissolve into dust flaking away in the wind. She had turned to try and get to her phone on the table to text Steve when everything about her form had collapsed and she recalled the floor rushing up to meet her. Now she was lying on the floor, but apparently completely whole again. She held up her hand that she had stared at only moments before, and felt both relief and confusion to see it fully formed and her fingers moving. She forced herself to take a deep breath, getting air back into her lungs, coughed a few times, and then her ears started working.

Someone was screaming.

There was the sound of running feet that seemed to be heading towards her and surrounding her, the sound of a television on somewhere, the voices from it speaking in Spanish, and again, someone screaming and the sound of multiple people gasping in fright and shock. Shaking her head, she looked around and to her amazement saw that she was indeed still in the apartment, but it looked very different. Some of the furniture was the same, but some of it was different, and standing behind the couch seemed to be a Mexican family, a short woman who had drawn two young children tightly behind her, and what looked like an older teenager, maybe 18 or 19, standing beside her quickly unfolding what looked like a butterfly knife.

It had been the woman who had been screaming, which she thankfully seem to have stopped but she was still very upset, chattering in Spanish and pointing at her, while the children whimpered behind her and the teenage boy, trying to look tough, but still obviously terrified, attempted to look threatening. Sharon wasn't in the least bit concerned about her personal safety, she knew she could easily disarm the boy, and if need be, toss him out a window before he even knew what hit him, but she was in no hurry to hurt anybody until she found out what had happened and why these people were in her apartment. The woman was shouting at her in Spanish, rapid fire questions, and it took Sharon a moment to switch her brain into translation mode, for of course she was fluent in Spanish and Arabic and Chinese and conversational in some other languages. She forced herself to listen to comprehend with the woman was yelling.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? What are you doing in our home?"

Sharon groaned and held her head. Their home?

"I...don't know. This is my place," she replied in Spanish. The woman seems surprised at her answer.

"This is our home," the woman repeated, more firmly. "How did you get in here?"

Sharon shifted to her feet and stood up, causing the family to back up several paces and the boy to raise his knife. She motioned him down with her hand.

"I'm not going to hurt anybody," she said. "I'm just as confused as you are. Did something happen?"

"Obviously," the boy said sarcastically, still pointing his knife at her.

She ignored the knife, and addressed the woman. "Last thing I remember I was standing by the window over there. Then my hand started to turn to dust and I fell. Then I woke up just now on the floor. And all of you were here in my apartment."

The woman look shocked. "You are one of the Dusted?"

"Dusted?" asked Sharon. "I don't understand."

"Five years ago," the woman replied in Spanish, "half the people on the planet disappeared in a cloud of dust. The Avengers were fighting an alien who destroyed the universe. Half of it anyway. They lost. They couldn't stop him. And half the people in the world vanished. Including my husband."

Sharon looked at the family, the teenage boy looking like his shoulders were sagging, for he must have been a young teen when this happened, and the younger children would have been just babies. Sharon looked at the woman sympathetically, while simultaneously trying to wrap her head around what the woman had told her. Five years? She had been gone five years? And what of her family, the Avengers? Steve?

"The Avengers? Did they disappear too?" she asked.

"Some of them, but not all of them," said the boy.

"It must have gotten me then," said Sharon, "but how am I back? Maybe some things happened?"

At that moment, whatever was on the television was interrupted by a breaking news brief, and an American reporter came on to mention that all over the world, people were suddenly reappearing. That it was too early to tell for sure, but some people who had known to be Dusted in the Decimation five years previous, including some politicians who had been on Capitol Hill when it happened, had suddenly reappeared in the exact spots that they had disappeared in, including on the floors of Congress. People who had been in planes seem to be appearing on the ground directly below, which meant that some search and rescue efforts were going to be hastily arranged to look for anyone out at sea.

"This situation is still breaking," said the reporter, "but I can confirm that just here in our studio, ten people have reappeared that I personally watched vanish. I truly hope this means that those we lost are returning to us. We are also receiving word of some sort of disturbance at the Avengers compound in upstate New York. It's possible that this is what is causing the reversal process. We will keep you updated as more information comes in."

The TV cut back to its regular programming and the family all looked at Sharon.

Disturbance at the Avengers compound? Instinctively she reached for her cell phone which was normally in her pocket, but it wasn't there, and then she remembered she had left it on the table. She looked to where her table was still sitting in the kitchen, but it was spread with newspapers and other things she didn't recognize. Her phone was gone.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"Four years," the woman said a little defensively. "It was up for rent. All the furniture was still here, so we knew somebody had lived here before. But it was a good deal, and with my husband gone, we could afford it."

"Was any of my stuff still here? My phone and my computer? My clothes?" she asked.

"No, I promise," said the woman holding up her hand and placing it over her heart. "The landlord said no personal effects were here. Maybe he cleaned them out."

Sharon sighed. There went her cell phone, her "specially set up for spy work" laptop, and about $3000 in cash that had been in her backpack where she kept most everything packed and ready to run on a moment's notice. It was her old spy training. But right now she was kicking herself for not having hidden it somewhere other than the closet of the bedroom.

"May I look please?" she asked.

To her surprise, the woman nodded, and Sharon moved to the bedroom that was filled with bunkbeds, for the mother and her children. She open the closet and looked inside, verifying that nothing of hers was in it, and sighed again as she closed the closet and turned around to face the family who had come in behind her, the kid still holding that stupid knife.

"Look, you can put that down," she said to the boy, "I'm not going to hurt anybody. I'm just confused that's all. You're telling me it's five years later, that I was one of something like 5 billion people who suddenly vanished off of this planet. I have no idea what's going on. And now I'm wondering what I'm supposed to do now."

The woman's eyes softened a little bit, and she looked sympathetic, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly the boy, who had finally pocketed the knife, said "Mama, if she was Dusted and she's back, does this mean that Papa is back too?"

The woman's eyes widened and her face registered extreme shock as her mouth dropped open. "Oh Dios mio," she whispered. Then she looked at her son. "Miguel. Take your bike and go down to the job site where your papa was working when he disappeared. He might be there."

"That job site's finished years ago," the boy said confused. "And I'm not leaving you here with her." He pointed at Sharon.

"I'll wait outside," said Sharon. "You don't have to worry about me. Go look for your father."

The boy didn't move, looking uncertain. Sharon moved first, causing them to flinch out of the way, as she headed for the front door of the apartment. The family followed her.

"Wait," said the woman, "do you have somewhere to go? Do you have family?"

Sharon stopped. "Yes," she said. "In Virginia. I don't know if they disappeared too or if they just came back or what's going on with them. My phone is gone, so I can't call them. I don't even know if their number is still active after all this time."

The woman fished a cheap cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to Sharon. "Here, call them. You should at least have somewhere to go. And Miguel, go find your father."

Sharon stepped outside with phone and dialed the number for the landline at the Carter estate. She let it ring several times as the teenage boy came out of the apartment holding a set of keys, gave her one more warning look before sprinting down the steps to a dusty red moped parked below. He started the bike up and peeled out of the parking lot. Sharon sat at the steps, letting the phone ring before she received an automated voice prompt letting her know that the number had been disconnected. She dropped her head. That meant that Ed's number was not working, and that meant he had likely been Dusted. And his wife Cindy as well, for if she had not been, she would have kept up the phone number. And of their children, Dan and Jude? Had their children survived and then put in foster home somewhere? She hung up the phone and tried Cathy's number next. It also indicated that it had been disconnected. That meant that Cathy and her husband Jeff and probably their children had been lost in the Decimation. But where were they now? Were they back as she was? She tried the phone number she had for Steve Rogers, but it went to voicemail. She took that as a good sign, for it meant he would have still been alive long enough to keep his number active. Same with Natasha Romanoff. But the number she had for Maria Hill was no longer active, nor the last known number for Nick Fury.

The woman came back out to retrieve her phone after Sharon sat staring at it on the steps staring at it for at least ten minutes. She introduced herself as Ava, and sat and talked with Sharon for a bit. She told Sharon about what had happened, how people had vanished into thin air, and it was being referred to as the Decimation, and those who had disappeared had been Dusted. There had been no pattern to it, no defining factor that determined who had lived or died. It had all been random. Sharon borrowed the phone again to look up information on what the other woman was telling her, reading various new sites and Wikipedia site to fill herself back in. It took about an hour, but by the time Miguel came zipping back into the parking lot on his scooter, with a man sitting on the back of it, Sharon had more or less brought herself up-to-date. Ava cried out in delight as she hurried down the steps and threw herself into the arms of the man who was climbing off the scooter with a dazed look on his expression. Sharon watched fondly as Miguel hugged his father, and the two younger children also came running out to hug him. At the sight of the two smaller children, the man whose name she would later learn was Marco, burst into tears. Sharon felt a pang of sympathy for him. What would it be like to go to work one morning with a young son and two babies at home, only to have that son, now a man come for you on a scooter after you come to and find out it's five years later, and come home to see the two babies were no longer children, that you had missed five years of their lives? And it wasn't even his home either, for Ava had told her that the family had moved in after the Dusting, which would make sense because at the time it had been Sharon's apartment.

If the man's confusion was even close to her own, Sharon could only imagine what was in store for this family in the near future. She herself was starting to get a small taste of what it must've been like for Steve Rogers when he woke up from the ice, only what would it be like to have to adjust to seventy years out of commission instead of just five? As near as she could tell, things were not so much different now than five years ago, but it was still disorienting. She had missed out on enough in those five years, but to miss out on seventy, she had only ever been able to imagine that. Then, with a start, she realized that her own phone number was probably deactivated, but what of her bank account and driver's license? Of all the things of an official nature that let you travel between states and open accounts and access resources? She didn't have her wallet, no money, and no way of accessing her account even if she did. Frantically, she directed the browser on Eva's phone to her bank login, mentally kicking herself for the lack of security which her spy training rebelled against, but she had to know. When she logged into her bank, she got a message saying that the account was suspended. Suspended due to suspected disappearance. The message also stated that presenting a photo ID and two witnesses who could vouch for your identity would result in reinstatement. Well that was no good. Most of the people she knew had apparently been Dusted and would have to be doing such things themselves. Furthermore, she had no photo ID. But then she remembered that she still had her old S.H.I.E.L.D. ID and expired drivers licenses back at the Carter estate. Being something of a transient due to her job, she never kept anything with her that she truly valued, like originals of pictures or her birth certificate. Those were kept at the Carter estate, which had been inhabited by her family continuously for at least eighty years. Or it had been. Had someone taken over the Carter family home in their absence?

She knew what she had to do now. She had to reconnect with her family and with those who could verify that she was who she was, namely Steve and Natasha. Or any of the other agents she had once work with who are now working with Phil Coulson, assuming they weren't dusted as well. Phil could probably verify that she was who she was, but she hadn't seen him in several years. She didn't even know if he was still alive. Melinda May. Bobbi Morse. Where were they all now?

The family was coming up the stairs, and Ava introduced her to the man whose name was Marco. They shook hands awkwardly. The sun was starting to go down and Sharon was going to have to come up with something to do with herself. She was over 2000 miles away from her family estate, with no money and no transportation and no way of verifying that she was who she was in order to access those things. Nobody she knew was answering their phones. Was she going to have to walk all the way to Virginia? Ava motioned her back into the apartment, and Sharon hesitated before following. It wasn't her home anymore, not that had actually been a home, but it have been hers. In the two years following the fracturing of the Avengers, she had been on the run, a fugitive from the CIA for helping Steve Rogers and his team. Getting across the ocean from Berlin to America had actually been easier than it should have been, given that it took several days for any of her colleagues to realize not only what she had done but that she was also gone. By the time they started looking for her, she was already in the states, and well away from her family, near the Mexico border in case she had to run for it. Eventually, Steve and his fellow fugitives had arrived at her door, the apartment she was renting temporarily with cash only to keep it out of her real name.

Her heart twisted a little bit at the memories. She and Steve had been uncertain of each other, the kiss under the bridge and two years of flirting while living next door notwithstanding. There was no denying they had been attracted to each other long before he ever knew who she was, but that attraction had grown since Peggy's funeral. Sharon knew very well that it could very well be that Steve was transferring some of his feelings for Peggy onto her, despite their lack of similarity, though she knew she shared several personality traits with her aunt. She tried to ignore it, tried to work on a relationship with him that was built on herself and not who she was related to, and at first it had been fairly wonderful. But then doubt had started to creep in, as he would frequently make references to things that Peggy would have known but Sharon herself did not, which had culminated into something of a low-key fight when his team had gone after some trafficking victims and left her behind. She had let him know quite firmly that she was not a baby and not to be handled like a delicate flower. She was just as capable as Romanoff, and she was either part of his group or she was not. He was going to have to decide. When he had hesitated long enough, she had decided that a working relationship and a romantic one were apparently not going to work with him. He had asked for some space and she had given it to him, staying apart for a while, before he came looking for her again. He had gotten word that Wanda had not checked in and had left with Natasha and Sam to go find her. He had cautiously asked Sharon if she wanted to come, but she had declined. This should be an easy enough mission, and she was working on a plan to try to get their names cleared so that they could come out of the shadows once and for all. That had been the last she heard from Steve. And only a short time later, she had turned to dust. She wasn't to sure her heart had returned with the rest of her.

Ava made enough food to feed an entire country. Sharon felt bad about eating their food and not contributing, but Ava, something of a mother hen, urged second and third helpings on everyone. It was a celebration she said, celebrating their victory over death and whatever the Avengers had done to be victorious over the evil alien. Sharon spooned heaping helpings of fried corn and burritos into her mouth, not realizing how hungry she had actually been. Apparently being dead for five years worked up an appetite. They kept their eyes on the news, as the reporter indicated that some sort of massive battle like the one that had hit New York with the Chtuthari invasion had apparently also happened at the Avengers facility upstate. Everyone was saying how grateful they were that the Avengers had kept it out in the woods instead of Manhattan this time, until finally a spokesperson for the Avengers came on, a nameless man who Sharon had once seen speak for them a couple of times in the past, who had once worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Only he looked older so apparently he had not been dusted with the others. He explained that the Avengers had indeed been responsible for bringing everybody back, and had faced off against the evil alien in an epic battle as the alien tried to once again snap everyone out of existence, and then had apparently decided to get rid of all life, not just half. The Avengers and their allies had fought bravely, bringing in allies from across the galaxy, and finally defeating the evil alien and his minions. The cleanup process was in effect, and the Avenger side had only a few casualties, but Sharon was shocked when the man admitted that Tony Stark was among the dead, as well as Natasha Romanoff.

Sharon put her fork down and hid her face in her hands, crying for the woman who had been her friend. The family looked on curiously, but Sharon felt it best not to tell them her connection to the Avengers. She wanted to do her best to lay low until she could get home, and she didn't need anybody telling their neighbors who she was or who she knew. They simply looked on sympathetically and crossed themselves as the names of the dead were read over the TV, figuring that she was simply upset and sympathetic to the situation. She was relieved to hear that Captain America was still alive, but that didn't explain why he wasn't answering. The battle has been over several days ago. Maybe he lost his phone in the chaos?

The family let her sleep on their couch, especially agreeable to it when she mentioned she would be leaving the next day to try to go home. But she got very little sleep, her mind in the turmoil over everything that was happening. It was emotionally overwhelming, and she silently cried herself to sleep several times throughout the night. The next morning, she traded her Apple Watch to Miguel for his scooter. The thing was seven years old, had been used when he bought it, and had 80,000 miles on it, and her watch was a five-year-old model. But he seemed happy with the trade, especially when she promised to send them some money so that he could replace his scooter and they could handle whatever they might need to handle in the coming months. Ava insisted that it was not necessary, but Sharon was resolved. The scooter barely reached 40 mph, though Miguel swore that it got great gas mileage. He gave her his helmet, knowing she would need it, and Ava dug out an old school backpack that had belong to one of the children and filled it with three spare changes of clothes, a blanket, a rain poncho, and a reusable insulated grocery bag filled with burritos, chimichangas, cheese and bread. Marco gave her $100 for gas, and Sharon gave cheerful hugs to everyone, including the children, a fist bump to Miguel, thanking them for their kindness and understanding, and promising Ava that she would call as soon as she got home. Then, securing the child's backpack on her back and pulling the too-tight helmet over her head, she waved goodbye to everyone, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading east.

It took her eight days to get across the country on the moped. For the entire journey, she was infinitely grateful for her training with S.H.I.E.L.D. that allowed her to blend in to pretty much any community, find shelter and food, and disappear out of that community just as fast, while simultaneously being grateful that none of her colleagues from her career is past could see her tooling across the country on a dusty red seven-year-old moped that could be passed by a kid on a bike if he was a vigorous enough peddler.

In the various towns she passed, she made use of any public libraries for computer access, discovering that one of her Gmail accounts was still active and, could be reinstated by getting the access code at that Library's courtesy phone on a desk. Once she had access to her Gmail, she began sending emails to everyone she could think of, everyone in her contact list. She sent emails to Fury and Hill, to her family, and to any Avenger that she still had an email address for, even to Tony Stark and Natasha, hoping that maybe the news had gotten wrong the reports of their deaths. She sent emails to her mother, who, the last Sharon had known, had been working with various aid groups in Africa, and rarely had access to her email anyway, so Sharon didn't know if her mother was still alive. She emailed Everett Ross, and a few of her former colleagues at the CIA, and spent some time researching what she would need to do to reestablish her identity and regain control of her bank accounts and resources. Apparently there was a hastily thrown together task force in the government that had put up an equally hastily made website detailing for the Returned, as they were being called, no longer the Dusted, what they needed to do to reestablish identity. Following the Decimation, several regulating bodies had ordered that things of a digital nature, such as emails, bank accounts and other resources, be frozen for a minimum of ten years, in the hopes that something could be done to bring their owners back. For those who had lost a spouse, they had been able to claim access to bank accounts, and children who had lost parents had been able to do the same.

Simply put, it was going to be a logistical disaster. The few places that she had access to watch the news, namely truck stops and hotel lobbies, all indicated that, while everyone was extremely glad that their lost love ones had returned, already there was a multitude of problems with five billion people suddenly reappearing on a planet that had been struggling to exist without that number of people. Despite the fact that those in airplanes had appeared on the ground below where they had disappeared, several were stranded out in the middle of nowhere, and several more had been found at sea, with even more having been completely lost. Frantic effort to re-create the flight paths of that day for planes that had crashed only did marginal good, and several people appeared in the middle of traffic, having disappeared out of their vehicles which had since been moved. The irony was, there were countless accidental deaths, some of them horrific as people suddenly appeared where no one expected them to be only a moment before. Sharon was incredibly grateful that she had been in an apartment, and had not been shot by the current occupants. Or stabbed.

There were other problems as well. Spouses who had moved on and remarried now suddenly found themselves with their loved ones returned, with the legality of either marriage now in question. Twins who had been the same age and one had disappeared now found themselves five years apart in age. Younger siblings who had watched an older sibling disappear were now the older sibling themselves and the family dynamic had changed. People were now realizing that they no longer had their previous jobs, as those roles had been filled by others when they had vanished. Nearly everyone who had vanished now found themselves homeless in some respects, as most of the homes in which they had occupied were either taken by other families, or had become so dilapidated in disrepair that they were unlivable. Society had been thrown in chaos when half the population of living things had disappeared, and now it looked like there was going to be even more chaos as it struggled to readjust to that population suddenly reappearing. This was going to affect every level of existence from agriculture and enough food to feed everyone, to jobs and infrastructure. Sharon was not eager to see what kind of work was going to need to be done.

She finally heard back from someone when she reached the Georgia border, preparing to angle up towards Virginia. Her cousin Ed finally emailed her back, giving her a lengthy account of what had been happening since the reappearance. He and his wife and sons had come to in their kitchen, astounded at their surroundings, which, to them, only a few moments before it had been a light, bustling kitchen with breakfast on the table, the radio playing, as everyone was getting ready for work and school, and then the next thing they know, they're all lying on the floor, the shades pulled and the house is dark and dusty and lifeless, as if nobody had lived in it for years. Electricity was off, as well as the water, and he was having a hell of a time getting them turned back on without any credentials or active bank accounts. In the meantime, one of the neighbors who had not been Dusted allowed them to fill up buckets and jugs of water for washing and cooking and drinking every morning at their hose pipe.

He had finally gotten a replacement drivers license that morning, and was in the process of reinstating his own accounts and the accounts that held the Carter family fortune. They were not wealthy like the Starks, but Howard had gifted Peggy some of his patents that were still in use presently, the royalties of which had kept the family comfortable for decades, from which they had all drawn from when needed. So far they had been relying on food from the neighbors and from church, and apparently both his and his wife's jobs were no longer available, although his company had told him they would try to find a position for him. In the meantime, they were doing their best to try to get the house operational and clean again, with a mad dash of dusting and polishing, and keeping the doors and windows open to air out. Cindy was trying to get the kids back in school, and they spent most of their time cleaning and trying to reconnect with people who had otherwise been lost. His sister Cathy, Sharon's other cousin, was going through something similar, he wrote. They had come to in their house about an hour away only to find another family living in it. Following the Snap, apparently the government had provided storage pods for individuals cleaning out abandoned houses to put the personal belongings of the previous occupant in, and keep in the backyard in the event that the previous occupants came back. Their personal possessions, which thankfully had included important papers, had been stored in this storage container in their former backyard, which they were able to retrieve, and there were plans to get a truck and move that pod to the Carter estate, with that family also moving into the main house until they could find somewhere to live. Their jobs were also no longer available and they were going through the process of reinstating themselves.

Although Sharon had never been extraordinarily close with her cousins, as her work often took her away for months at a time, and none of them had been thrilled that the same work had taken Peggy away from them frequently, her cousin still seemed quite thrilled to hear from her. He told her she was more than welcome at the house, although he warned it would be a bit crowded and she would probably have to be content with a couch to sleep on, but to come right away, and he asked if she needed him to come get her. He closed his email by telling her that he had spoken to her mother a few days before, who had apparently been Dusted and reappeared back in Africa where she had been working, and was working on getting a flight home. They were bound to be logistical problems with getting Americans overseas back home with their identities currently in suspension. He told her that he had received a phone call from Captain Rogers the day before, checking on the family, saying that he was glad they were OK and he hoped they readjusted quickly. That he had mentioned that whatever mission he had been on that had brought everybody back was not finished yet, and he still had something to do, but that he wished the Carters well. Ed had also wished him well and hung up, closing his letter with admonishes to her to be careful.

Sharon gritted her teeth, thanking him for replying, telling him not to worry about coming to get her, that she would make it there herself, to let her know if there were any new developments with her mother, and thanks for letting her know about Steve. She said that she would see them soon, and sent the email reply. Then she sat at the computer staring at the email her cousin had sent her, with a cold chill creeping up her spine. Whatever Steve had done, whatever he was going to do, she knew he meant it. He didn't expect to be coming back, or he would not have sounded so final in his conversation with Ed, like they would never speak again. He likely had gotten her texts and messages, but had chosen not to respond. That hurt more than she expected it to. She felt a flash of irritation with herself, for she had never been one to put emotions above duty, and yet she had done it twice for this man, had put her own heart on the line trying to build something with him, and it had come to this. She knew she would feel angry later, but right now she was numb. She thought about using her Google voice account to send him a text message, asking him not to leave, or wishing him good luck. Instead, she sent one asking him to contact her at this number, knowing that he would not. He had already left her.

That night, she took shelter under an overpass, and cried until she fell asleep.

Various soup kitchens and church halls had given her a place to eat and sleep across the country, and one kindly pastor had given her a gas card to keep the moped filled. But it finally came down to the last two days on the road where she chose to use her last five dollars to fill the gas tank rather than eat. She was starving by the time she rolled into Virginia, and was actually feeling a little weak in the knees as she pulled up to the Carter estate, almost literally on fumes. She stared at the house, noting that it looked almost dilapidated, overgrown and with the paint starting to peel. It looked like nobody had lived in it for years. But she saw that some of the lawn had been mowed, and there were several cars in the driveway, two of whom she recognized as her cousin's. The gate was closed, but she held her palm against a nondescript brick that suddenly flashed green three times and the gate swung open. She drove in, and then waited for it to close behind her before inching her way up the driveway to the house.

She had just put the kickstand down when her cousin Ed came out onto the porch. He waited until she removed her helmet, revealing who she was before pocketing the pistol that he had tried to nonchalantly keep concealed by his side. Although neither of Peggy's children had followed her into "the life," she had made damn sure that they at least had some survival skills, and Ed was, at least at one time, a better shot than Sharon. In his work as an accountant, he'd probably never need it, but Peggy hadn't raised fools.

Sharon pretended not to see as she wearily stood up and took a step towards the porch. But then her cousin was suddenly down the steps and had swept her into what had to be the most enthusiastic hug he had ever given her. Despite the fact that he was in his fifties, he pulled her up off the ground and swung her a bit before putting her down.

"Sharon! Thank god you made it!" he laughed. "I was starting to worry."

She was about to respond but then the rest of the family came tumbling out the front door and had also thrown their arms around her. Sharon wasn't used to so much attention but she hugged everybody back fiercely, especially the kids. For several minutes, they stood in the overgrown front yard talking excitedly, several talking all at once, commenting on how glad they were that everybody was alive, and the importance of family being back together again, and sharing abbreviated details of their own experiences. Sharon bit her lip, both grateful and slightly guilty, knowing that her chosen profession had often taken her away from her family and she had never been extraordinarily close with them. Being an international fugitive had required her to stay away from them as well. But she had to admit, she's was extremely grateful for the people surrounding her now.

"Hey Aunt Sharon, where'd you get the bike?" asked Ed's oldest son, fifteen year old Dan. He had climbed up on it and was pretending to zoom around a race track. His brother Jude jumped up behind him.

"Can we ride this?" asked Jude.

"Boys! Get off! That's Sharon's," their mother scolded.

"It doesn't have much gas," said Sharon," and it doesn't go very fast, which is why it took me so long to get here. If your parents say it's ok, you can ride it tomorrow maybe. In the meantime, can you haul it into the garage for me?"

Dan nodded and jumped off, pushing the bike towards the garage with Jude steering.

Cathy's husband Jeff and their kids had gone back inside, but Sharon lingered a bit with Ed, Cindy and Cathy. They asked her if she was going to stay this time, go through the process of getting re-established, try to find a normal job. Sharon answered yes, yes and she wasn't sure, at which point she began to feel so tired and hungry that her vision began to tunnel. Cindy wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Ok guys, enough, she's dead on her feet. She can answer questions while she eats. We have a huge plate of lasagna with your name on it in the kitchen," Cindy said as she led Sharon inside.

***  
In the days that followed, Sharon managed to get her accounts re-instated, get a new driver's license, and receive word from a recently returned himself Everett Ross that, given Captain Roger's performance in bringing everyone back and saving literally the entire universe, he and everyone who helped him officially had their records expunged. He also offered her a job back with the CIA stateside if she wanted, and she replied that she'd like to think about it and thanks. She heard back from Hill, who was still working on getting her job with Stark Inc. back, and though Sharon didn't hear from Fury directly, he sent word through Hill that he was glad she was alive. She didn't expect any longer to hear from Steve, and Natasha was the only Avenger who would think to contact her at all, so she put them out of her mind as best she could and set about helping recover the Carter estate.

Once they got the electricity, gas and water back on, the family was throwing themselves into repairing, repainting and trying to live together, all jammed into one house, as everybody decided what they wanted to do. Sharon thought about moving to a nearby apartment, but then hit on the idea of setting up a tiny house on the south end of the property, which Ed thought was a good idea. Cathy and her husband then proposed that they build a larger house also on the property for their family, causing a lot of jokes about them becoming the Carter Commune, but it seemed everyone was in favor.

Sharon, after getting herself re-established, threw herself into helping her family as best she could. With all the bedrooms in the house taken, she had set up in the basement on an old futon Cindy's younger brother had used in college, that was remarkably comfortable in the down position. Sharon had her own TV hanging on the wall and a small half bath in the basement that allowed her to have reasonable private space when she needed it. She dusted, vacuumed, and helped cook for the ten people living in the house, which for her mostly involved making breakfast. When ten people went through an entire carton of eggs a day, the food bill became a serious concern, especially with food shortages starting to happen.

Experts began to encourage everyone to take up home farming, growing gardens like the "Victory gardens" of WW2, raising chickens for eggs and keeping a milk goat for milk and cheese. Cathy and Jeff, always having been the "organic sort" themselves, dove right into this idea, and Sharon suddenly found herself digging rows for gardens and feeding dried mealworms to baby chicks that would hopefully start making eggs in a few months. The Carter land wasn't extensive, but it was large enough for a garden, and everyone was expected to help out. Sharon began reading up on canning and preserving and cheese making when Cathy came home with a goat and announced that they would all be drinking goat milk and learning to like feta in everything. Sharon wasn't sure whether or not to encourage her cousin or strangle her. With Ed's permission, she gave the moped to Dan, with the understanding that he would be incredibly careful on it and use it to run errands if needed. He enthusiastically agreed and frequently rode the younger kids around the driveway on it. She sent a money order to the Ava and Marco, hoping Miguel could use it to replace his scooter, and she started thinking about applying for one of the newly developed jobs in the Department of Health and Human Services, helping people get back on track after coming back from the Decimation. She had her family, she had a home, she had a future. She should be happy. But a part of her still felt hollow, left behind and forgotten.

Sharon was in the kitchen trying not to burn the pot of paella she was making. She flipped between the pages of the cookbook, grumbling about her lack of cooking skills and the fact that she had to cook for ten people because Cathy wasn't feeling well, in a darkened room fighting off a migraine, and usually handled supper. Sharon could clean like nobody's business, but cooking just wasn't her strong point. The kids were out front riding on the moped, Cindy was at the store trying to find clothes for herself and Sharon, and Ed and Jeff were out back discussing the possibility of adding solar panels to the roof, when she heard the kids scream and yelp. Dropping the book and turning off the stove, she ran out onto the porch, wishing she knew where Ed kept his gun, as she no longer had hers.

She skidded to a stop on the porch and regarded the scene in front of her. The kids had retreated to the base of the porch steps, while Dan was backing the bike up the driveway. Several feet away stood the figure of a man wearing a gray-ish white suit and a helmet that looked a little bit like the one Ant-Man had worn at the battle of the Berlin airport. The man's form was definitely familiar, and then Sharon noticed the shield strapped to his back. She jumped down the steps and stepped in front of the kids and squared off with the figure. It might be Steve, or it might be a trick.

Steve took a minute to get his bearings, and then noticed all of the children who had watched him materialize on the front lawn backing up behind the figure of a woman who had stormed out onto the porch. He hadn't meant to scare them, but in hindsight, it had probably not been a good idea to materialize on the front lawn like that. Maybe he should have materialized a little further down the hill. And now he had frightened them, and the woman they were standing behind looked ready to beat the hell out of him.

Sharon.

It was Sharon.

His breath caught in his throat, and he admitted he was a bit surprised. He had aimed for coming to the Carter estate in the hopes that one of Sharon's cousins might know where she was. He wasn't sure if she would be at the apartment where she had disappeared, although he had every reason to believe that's probably where she reappeared. After the Decimation, he had gone there and found all of her personal belongings including her phone still there, which she never would have left behind. He had gathered them all up and brought them with him to the Carter estate when he had checked on Peggy's family. But coming back on the date that he did with the several days after the reversal of Thanos' snap, so there's no telling where she would have been at this point. Now here she was in front of him, and he counted himself lucky that he had found her so easily, and also that she had not shot him on sight, because it was obvious she didn't know who he was. He reached up and deactivated the helmet, so she could see his face.

"Sharon," he said.

"Steve?" she asked, her mouth dropping open and her face registering shock. "What the hell? What are you doing here? What happened?"

He deactivated the suit, letting it fold it back in on itself onto the wrist device, so that he was standing there in civilian clothes and not a futuristic looking spacesuit. Sharon's eyes flickered in amazement, but the kids were highly impressed.

"Cool," whispered the kid whose name he thought was Jude.

Sharon snapped out of her amazement, and turned to the kids. "Dan, put the bike up for now, and Jude, go tell your father that Captain Rogers is here. Everybody needs to be getting back to work in the garden anyway."

The kids grumbled in protest but did as they were told. Sharon made sure they were out of earshot, before coming down the steps and standing in front of him. She studied him carefully, as of trying to convince herself that it was really him. Her eyes held a glimmer of hope, but also wariness, and he couldn't blame her.

"We need to talk," he said softly.

"Somehow I figured that," she said. She glanced down at the device on his wrist. "Stark technology?"

"Who else?" he said with a wry smile.

"Does this conversation need to be where no one can overhear it?" she asked.

"Preferably."

"Then let's go to the basement," she said. "That's where I'm staying. It's rare that anybody goes down there."

He nodded and followed her up the steps just as Ed came out of the door to greet them.

"Captain Rogers!" he exclaimed. "We didn't expect to see you here given everything that's going on."

"Steve," said Steve gently, shaking Ed's hand. "And yeah, you wouldn't believe what's been going on. I don't believe half of it myself."

"I was watching the news earlier," said Ed. "From the looks of the cleanup process up in New York, that was a hell of a battle up at your facility. But everything's OK now?"

Steve put a hand on Ed's shoulder for a moment and then removed it. "Everything's OK now, Ed. At least as near as I can see. There still a few loose ends to tie up, but everything's going to be OK now. Are you adjusting OK?"

"We're all trying to get back into our lives," set Ed. "Admittedly it's not been easy. Just getting the kids back into school is a nightmare. But we're progressing."

"Ed," said Sharon, "I need to talk to Steve for a little while. Will be down in the basement. I think dinner is pretty much ready, it just needs to be stirred a few times."

"I'll get it," said Ed. "You go on. Steve, are you staying for dinner?"

"Oh I am don't want to impose," said Steve turning slightly red.

"I made enough to feed an army," said Sharon. "You're welcome to stay if you want."

"In that case, thanks for the invite," said Steve.

Ed went into the kitchen to stir the pot, and Steve followed Sharon down into the basement. He was a little nervous, for he had realized his mistake in going back to try and stay with Peggy, but there was still some things he needed to do to fix everything, and for that he needed Sharon's help. And that would require telling her everything. She was not going to be happy with most of it. He followed her downstairs into the basement, breaking the ice by telling her how he had come by the house after the Decimation, found it empty and secured for the family, unsure if they would be back.

"It certainly looks better," he said. "I can see you all have been cleaning."

"Like you wouldn't believe," she agreed. "I've inhaled enough dust to snort out an entire forest."

"Lovely image," he replied, looking around. Her living space looked serviceable but it was still a basement. Despite the fact that she had her own half bath, TV, a punching bag in the corner and futon bed, still in the bed position, covered with unmade blankets, he could tell it wasn't great. The floor was bare, polished concrete, there was only one thin window high in one wall, a harsh fluorescent light overhead, and it smelled a little dank. Despite her attempts to make it homey by putting a rug on the floor and a lamp near the bed to offset the fluorescent light, it still felt more like a prison cell than a personal space or bedroom.

"Sorry it's a little messy," she said, throwing the blankets over the futon in attempt to make the bed and motioned him to sit on it. He did, and she sat on the rug nearby, tucking her legs under her.

"So what's going on that brings you here? Don't you have a mess to clean up?" she asked.

"First tell me what's happened with you," he asked. "You were dusted. What happened when you came back?"

She looked surprised, but nodded and began to tell him her story. He wanted to tell her his own, but he had learned from the mistake with Peggy earlier. With Peggy, he had just dropped out of the sky and laid his own story on her first. If he had asked Peggy hers first, he'd have gotten a firsthand account of how she had moved on without him, which might have caused him to leave earlier to come back. Or certainly might have caused less hardship. And because he hadn't, he had ended up looking like a selfish ass. But as Sharon told her story, he began to feel horrible.

She had come to in a very confusing, possibly dangerous situation, had tried to reach out to him and he had ignored her, intent on returning to the past. If he had responded, he would have learned that she was adrift and alone, with no resources, and no way of getting home except in the way that she had. At the very least, he could have offered to come get her and bring her home, or send someone. Instead, he had left her to putter across the country on an ancient moped for a week relying on homeless services for shelter and food. He was glad his mother wasn't here. She'd have kicked his ass for the way he had treated both women important to his life. He had asked Sharon to tell her story also as a stalling tactic, for he was dreading having to tell his own and admitting what he had done. But now she came to a close, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer.

"That's...I'm sorry Sharon. I should have answered you, come get you," he said.

"You were busy," she shrugged.

"No excuse," he said. "You have every right to kick my ass over it. But you might want to save your foot. You're definitely going to want to kick it when I tell my story."

She arched her eyebrows but said nothing. So he started to talk. He started at the very beginning, when they had found Wanda in Edinburg and ended with him appearing on the Carter front lawn. It took three hours to tell, he was getting better at it. During the telling, Cindy had come down with bowls of paella for them and Steve had offered to do the dishes, but Cindy had smiled and told him not to worry about it. The bowls were empty by the time Steve got to the part about going back in time solo to return the stones and forgotten by the time he spoke of going back to Peggy. The family was sound asleep by the time he finished and the house was silent.

As was Sharon

She had barely moved from her spot on the hard cold floor, and he had noticed her starting to shiver, but when he asked if she wanted to trade places with him or wanted a blanket, she had shook her head silently. So he had continued. Now that he had finished, he came out of the detached zone he had retreated to in telling the story and looked at her. She was dead silent, still as a stone, and her face devoid of expression. He had never seen that look on her face before, no sign of her cynical humor in her eyes or sardonic smile. She was expressionless, like a robot. It actually scared him.

"Sharon?" he asked tentatively. "Are you ok?"

She didn't move. Only her eyes narrowed in fury though her expression never changed. Slowly she stood up.

"You indescribable bastard," her voice rolled in cold anger. Her entire body now shifted tensely. She was definitely no longer relaxed.

"Sharon I know you're mad but..." he never finished the sentence, nor did he, even with his enhanced senses, ever see her move until her hand smashed against his face, slapping him hard enough to make his ears ring and snap his head to the side. Only his enhancements from the serum, he knew, kept him upright and conscious. That kind of hit would have given a normal man whiplash, maybe even kill him. He righted himself and shifted to stand up, but caution told him to remain seated. He remembered that S.H.I.E.L.D. had considered her only marginally less deadly than Natasha Romanoff, and he sensed that she was angry enough to actually hurt him. Maybe even kill him. He was stunned, really. He knew she would be mad, but not quite this mad. She had always seemed to understand him and his motivations before, and had usually been fairly forgiving of his mistakes. Clearly not this time. It was best if he didn't provoke her, try to calm her down first. Now that he knew she had no problem fighting, he was ready for her, knew he could overpower her. But probably not without hurting her, and he'd rather avoid that.

"Mad?" she growled through clenched teeth. "No Steve, mad is what I am when someone cuts me off in traffic. Mad is what I am when I see children in cages while Hydra agents we missed take over my government and slowly turns us into a police state with all this upheaval. Anger is what I feel when some alien warlord comes down and decimates every life on my planet and universe because of some twisted ideology. What I'm feeling right now goes way beyond that. You tried...you tried to destroy my *family.* You fucking traitor."

"Sharon, please, it wasn't like that..." he tried to explain.

"Zip it!" she snapped. "I'm in no mood to hear it! For fuck's sake, Steve, you just admitted to purposely planning to leave everything and everybody here behind as soon as you found a method, without telling anyone, travel back in time to the era you lost to try and continue a relationship with someone you *knew* had moved on without you, had a thirty year marriage to someone else with two kids, which would then cease to happen, all because, after ten years in the21st century, you couldn't deal anymore? The rest of us, Peggy's kids, uncle Dan, the Avengers...me, all be damned? Are you insane?!"

Steve dropped his head in defeat. This was going pretty much held a conversation with Peggy had gone, only much worse. Peggy had at least not punched him. Sharon looked about ready to start ripping him limb from limb. And as he tried hard to put himself in her place, he couldn't blame her. From where she was standing, it looked like he had just tried to wipe out her entire family for no reason other than he was obsessed with her great aunt.

"Sharon, you have every right to be mad, and the easy thing to do would have been to not tell you at all. But I knew I had to come clean, I couldn't face you otherwise."

"Well good for you," she said sarcastically. "And thanks. Because if I had interacted with you from this point on without knowing what you did, that would have been doing me just as wrong as you did everybody else, including Peggy. And worse, I'd never know it."

"But I would," he admitted.

"Not that it stopped you from going back in the first place," she said. "You knew Peggy had a family. How can you even look in their eyes now? Did you see those people up there? Those kids? If you had stayed, they wouldn't exist. You're OK with doing that?"

"No," he said. "Like I explained, it wouldn't have changed anything about this timeline. It was an alternate timeline. They'd still continue to exist here, with you. There were over 14 million different timelines, all in which Thanos won. In any of those timelines, she might not have married Daniel at all on her own. Never had your cousins. She might have married someone else entirely. It wouldn't have mattered if it was me, as long as this primary timeline remains unchanged."

"And that makes it OK?" she stormed. "I'm not concerned about the mechanics of time travel as Bruce Banner explained them to you. That's not the point at all! The point is that you even thought to do it! That is soon as you gained a method of time travel, you took your chance and went back expecting everything to be OK. Even if it was a different timeline, your motivation is what's screwed up, not the mechanics of time travel."

"I know," he said softly. "I know that now. She helped me see it."

"And if she hadn't found your phone, then what?" asked Sharon. "We both know the answer to that. You would still be there. Were you ever going to come clean to her about the fact that in some other reality she had a family with someone other than you? If you had kids with her, and Thanos arrived to do his parlor trick, what was your plan then? Were you ever going to warn her about that? Or was that going to be your neat little secret for the next 80 years? And all the shit that's happened since 1945? You were just going to peace out of all of that? Or were you going to do something about it, even though you had gone to that timeline to retire? That sounds like some selfish stranger, not Steve Rogers."

"I'd like to think I would have come to my senses and come back on my own," he said. "She just helped me sober up sooner."

"Before or after you guys were married? Had kids? Were you going to abandon her then?"

"No! Sharon I'm not going to sit here and speculate on what might have happened. It didn't. She knew I had to come back, and I did. She's always been right anyway."

"But you don't feel that rightness yet," said Sharon boring her gaze into him. "You're only back here because she told you too, not because you wanted to come back. What's to stop you from taking that damn thing on your wrist and bugging out of here to another timeline to try again with her, only leaving your phone behind, now that you know what trouble it can cause? You might decide tomorrow or next week that things aren't working out here either and go to one of the other 14 million timelines only earlier, like right after you crashed the Valkyrie but before she meets Daniel, to start over. Why am I supposed to believe any different?"

Without hesitating, he took the time device off his wrist and handed it to her.

"Take it." he said to simply. "Smash it if you have to. She wanted me to come back here, she helped me realize that I wanted to come back here. I did. I do. I don't think I need the temptation removed, but if you need it, then you take it."

She stared at him warily, and then snatched the device. She turned it over in her fingers, then pocketed it.

"It doesn't work anyway. It's out of particles," he said dully.

"There are others, not just this one," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes but they're out too," he said. "Not that anyone wants to use them."

"Just you," she said.

"Not anymore," he replied.

"So what do you want?" she asked.

"To retire," he said simply. "I'm done with Captain America. It's time for someone else to pick up the shield. I want to try and remember who Steve Rogers is without the uniform. I don't remember what it's like to just be me. Just me. I'll have to start over entirely. Again. Only this time it'll be my choice, not because of something that happened to me. I suppose that's what I was trying to do all along."

"And you're here why exactly?" asked Sharon.

"Because you're trying to do the same," he said. "I thought… I thought we could help each other. And truly, I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Well isn't that convenient," she said coldly. "Once you find out there's a method that will let you travel time, you get tunnel vision about going back to the last person who made you happy, thinking nothing would have changed when you did. Then you find out it's not that simple, she sends your ass back here, and now you show up at my door wanting the same thing for me? And when I disappoint you, you'll what? Leave again? Take off back to another time and start over with either me or Peggy in another timeline? Keep trying until you get it right? You sure got the good end of the deal from me. I gave up my career twice to help you, lied to a federal investigating organization to save your ass, and Bucky's, you even got a kiss, a safe house to retreat to, and a roll in the hay, and then you got to walk off like I never existed. Now you're back here because your first choice rejected you, and I'm what, a consolation prize? Let's get something straight, I am nobody's consolation prize. I may be your second choice, hell I might even be your third or fourth choice, but that doesn't mean I have to accept you as my only choice. You've just admitted to me that you were willing to destroy my entire family for selfish reasons. And I'm supposed to what, be happy that you're here? Right now the only thing I want you to do was leave."

Steve felt her angry words like a punch in the gut. He dropped his face into his hands and fought back tears. He hadn't expected her to reject him, and he certainly hadn't expected it to hurt this much. When Peggy had sent him back here, he had mostly understood it. But he always thought that he would at least have Sharon to lean on, because he knew that if he carried out his plan as he intended, he wouldn't have Bucky or his other friends. But without Sharon, where did that leave him? He tried to contain the overwhelming emotion of her retreating from him, but it wasn't easy. His shoulder shook with the effort, and he couldn't bring himself to look at her. She had every right to be angry, furious even.

In her place, a lot of people would hate him. He had indeed treated her badly, for most for the entire length of time he had known her. He had been unreasonably angry at her for following orders and doing her job keeping an eye on him from across the hall. He had ignored Natasha's suggestions for two years that he call her, even though he thought about her more often then he cared to admit and she had featured heavily into some daydreams of his during that time period. He had indeed been the direct cause of the destruction of her career twice, although the first time nobody had any real control over it, and the second time had been her will and choice. He had attempted the beginnings of a relationship with her, but it had scared him to feel this much for someone other than Peggy when he felt he didn't have the right to feel such things for Peggy's niece. So he had pushed her away. And in doing so, had left her to fend for herself and the Decimation and the aftermath, not returning her attempts to contact him, leaving her to find her own way home. Now he showed up at her door, dropped this bomb of a story in her lap, and expected what? He was lucky that so far all he had gotten was a fair slap to the face. Peggy had admonished Sharon in her video to not settle for some fool. Sharon hadn't even seen the video, and she appeared to be taking her aunt's words to heart. He was an idiot, and she deserved better than he had given her. The problem was, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to do much better. If she were smart, she would push him away and never look back.

"I understand," he said softly. "And I will. But before I go, I need your help. And you're the only one who can do it."

"I think I've done enough helping you for one lifetime," she said angrily. "And it never ends up well for me."

"Will you at least hear me out?"

She didn't answer, so he continued, explaining what he wanted to do and what he needed her help with. The anger left her face and she stood looking at him and shock.

"Steve, are you having some kind of nervous breakdown or something? Your behavior as you've described it and what you still want to do is just not normal for you, or anyone for that matter. Why on earth would you do that? Why not just retire and walk away?"

"Because Barton tried that, and it didn't work. No matter how often he says he's retired, he keeps getting sucked back in, and his family suffers for it. No, I think a clean break is the best."

"You really think they'll go for it? Do you think Bucky will? They're going to be pissed if they find out."

"It's for the best," he said. "If you can convince me otherwise, I'll listen."

"Doubtful," she said wryly. "So that's in three days, you leave to return the stones in three days, which means you're still technically in upstate New York. Are you going to be on the news or any other public venue anytime in the next 72 hours?"

"No," he said.

"Then the best thing you can do for the next three days is hide out," she said. "We won't tell my family about this. They don't need to know. I'll just tell them that you need to stay here in the basement for three days and not let anybody know where you are in order to fix the final part of the problem. Given their mother, they're used to hearing those kind of vague explanations. The adults won't say anything, we just need to make sure the kids don't. I'll talk to Fury, see if he can get what we need. I'll help you, but after that, you're gone. I haven't decided yet whether or not I ever want to hear from you again."

He slumped miserably. "Then why are you helping me now?"

"Because she told me to" said Sharon simply. "Because, in the past, helping you has always coincided with the right thing to do in general. I'm not so sure about now, but I can tell you, I'm done. I'm done with all this. I'm pretty sure her instructing me to help you out didn't include completely trashing my life a third time. I'm going to have to try to rebuild here, and I can't do that if you're going to keep dropping in, causing chaos, and then disappearing. I just can't, Steve."

He just nodded but said nothing.

She offered to get him some clothes to sleep in, but he declined, so she grabbed some night clothes and her toothbrush, and headed upstairs. He sat for a while on the futon, and then got up to wash up in the half bath, and then stripped down to his boxers to slip under the blanket on the futon. He could immediately tell it was going to be a restless night. The blankets and pillows smelled like her, a scent he hadn't realize he had even been missing, and their harsh conversation replayed itself over and over in his mind, his imagination showing him repeatedly the hurt and anger in her eyes.

He dozed a bit, but only for a short time, before he woke up in the darkness of the basement, a soft blanket wrapped around him that smelled like Sharon, and his nose buried into the pillow that also smelled like her. At some point, he grabbed the pillow and tucked it under his chin, wrapping his arms around it, wishing that it was her. He knew he had forfeited his right to want her or believe he had any kind of chance of a future with her, but that didn't make him long for her anyway. It was ironic, him defying the laws of propriety, time and space to go back in time to be with the woman he had believed with all his heart that he wanted, only to find himself desperately longing for the one that he had been prepared to leave behind. At some point around three in the morning, he suddenly realized that the dinner dishes were still on the floor, and being unable to sleep and figuring he should make himself useful, he got up to bring them up to the kitchen. The stairs creaked, but he had long ago learned to move silently so as not to wake up anybody in the house. Especially Sharon who he figured was sleeping on the sofa in the living room.  
As he opened the door into the basement that opened into the kitchen, he realized he was only partially right. She was indeed on the sofa in the living room, he could see through the doorway, but she was not asleep. He paused in the doorway to the basement, listening carefully, trying not to let her know that he was there. He heard her shifting restlessly on the sofa, apparently unable to get comfortable, and then he heard the muffled sobs. He felt this heart ache and twist in his chest as he listened to her quietly crying, quiet enough to not wake up the rest of the family, but leaving no doubt to how heartbroken she was. With no doubt that he was the cause of her pain, Steve wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of himself for causing it. He had done this, his reckless actions and selfish tunnel vision, and what did he still have left to do? Lie to his friends, to Bucky?

For the first time since he had gone back to return the stones, Steve began to question his own sanity. Both Peggy and Sharon had looked at him like he had lost his mind when he had described what he had done. He had found closure with Peggy, but he knew that he had also hurt her, showing up and then leaving again. It had been hard enough to say goodbye the first time. And she had been right, he had abandoned Sharon and his friends. And this was the consequence, her having to put her life back together yet again, only this time knowing that he had left her on purpose. That he really had not looked back even once. If such a thing had been done to him, he knew, it would hurt a hell of a lot. And she didn't even have the luxury of venting to anyone, because she knew that she couldn't tell anybody what he had done.

He wanted to go to her, wrap his arms around her, beg her to forgive him and promise to never hurt her again, that he would help her rebuild, that they could rebuild their lives, maybe together. But he knew that right now, that would only get him punched or slapped again. She was in no mood for his comforting, didn't want to be around him. And as soon as she helped him carry out his plan, she wanted him to leave. Could he do that? Could he actually go through the rest of his life never seeing her again? Despite his plan to trickery, he still planned to at least stay in touch with his friends if needed. Maybe through email or text. Just enough to let them know that he had not forgotten about them. Or to offer advice if they needed it. But what would it be like to never see or talk to Sharon again?

Carefully, he tiptoed to the sink and put the dishes in, then crept back to the basement and gently closed the door behind him. As much as he wanted to, there was really nothing he could do now.

It was probably a good thing that the Carter clan was used to keeping secrets on vague explanations, because when Sharon told her cousins that Steve Rogers was going to be hiding in their basement until Friday, but they were under no circumstances to tell anybody about it, that there was a special top-secret mission that he had to accomplish on his own and that if he did not, it could reverse the Decimation, they barely blinked and didn't ask any questions. Cathy brought him a stack of mystery novels to read, and Cindy called him up to the kitchen or brought him meals on a tray. He helped paint interior rooms and carry unusable furniture up to the attic, and the kids brought their video games down to the basement to hook up to the TV to teach him how to play Mario Kart and Super Smash Brothers. He talked with Ed and Jeff about installing solar panels and wind turbines and making the estate completely self-sustaining behind it's wrought iron fence that encircled the entire plot, in the event of another catastrophic event like the Decimation, though nobody was talking about adopting a survivalist lifestyle. Cathy and Jeff had been in talks with a contractor about building a small house on the east side of the property, and he had found some stacks of books from the library on tiny houses and building plans that Cindy had brought home for Sharon, who was still discussing building a tiny house on the other end of the property.

He barely saw Sharon at all, except on the second day when she came down to the basement with clothes and necessities for him, to tell him that she had gotten in touch with Hill and Fury finally, and had a meeting set with them the next morning. He wanted to come but she firmly told him no, to stay there. They couldn't afford to have him seen and recognized by anyone. She came back later that day with what he had asked for, that she had gotten from Fury, the photostatic veil, or nano-mask that Natasha had worn to impersonate a member of the UN Security Council on the day the Hub fell. Only three were known to have been made by its creator Dr. Selwin, with one having been obtained by Hydra and used by Agent 33, the other one secured by Fury, and the third one unaccounted for, which made the people who knew about them slightly nervous when someone who appeared to be someone they knew suddenly showed up unexpected or out of the blue.

These masks were the reason that Sharon was cautious about anyone she met, having taught Steve a secret sign to give to ensure that each was truly the other, with him rubbing his chin, and her tucking her hair behind her right ear. If either failed to do this upon meeting the other, Sharon had a tendency to be cautious that it might not be who she thought it was in front of her. Fury had not asked why she needed it and had handed it over without argument, stressing that he wanted it back at some point. It came with gloves for his hands, which he hadn't even thought about but was grateful Sharon had thought of it herself.

He told her about the message Peggy had recorded for the family and texted it to her, telling her to judge for herself whether or not to show it to her cousins and under what circumstances she chooses to tell them how she got it. He sends it to her and she only nods to confirm that she received it before disappearing back up the stairs. Later that day, after retrieving a glass of water from the kitchen, he spotted her on the back porch steps, watching it over and over again, crying into her hand. He sighed. Was there any way he could manage not to cause her pain or make her cry? He wanted, once again, to go to her and hold her, but he knew she'd never let him. Not now.

They left the other Carters at 3am on the right morning and drove mostly in silence to upstate New York, stopping for gas station coffees and breakfast sandwiches, then later, gas station burgers. Steve drove most of the way to let Sharon sleep some more, though she was restless. He tried to make conversation but she was still stony and mostly quiet. She answered him but didn't engage, resisting his attempts to reforge a connection or even a friendship between them. He had hurt her too deeply. Steve felt her slipping away, putting the distance she would need to put between them to separate forever. She would play her role, and then be done with him. He dreaded the next few days.

She set up in a nearby motel, dropped him off at the designated road and time with the mask, the shield and the time device, and returns to the hotel and waits. Waits for him to do what he will, lying to his friends about where he had been, using the mask to convince them he had just spent 80 years in another timeline with Peggy so they will think him too elderly to continue. Waits for him to give Sam the shield and the time device to Bruce. Waits for him to stay the night with them as he gathers what is left of his belongings and has Bucky drive him to the apartment still in his name in Brooklyn. When Bucky returns to the Avengers, having endured that his now elderly best friend was comfortable and had all he needed, with promises to check up on him, Steve calls her and she goes to pick up the mask and gloves.  
She tentatively knocked on the door in the pattern she taught him in the car on the way up. She hasn't forgotten her spy training entirely. He opened the door and pulls her inside. He's taken the mask off and hands it to her.

"Sure you don't want to keep it?" she asks. "If Bucky comes back here and you're not wearing it, he'll know you lied about everything. He'll be pissed."

"Fury said he wanted it back," said Steve.

"Yes, that's what he said," she agreed, but didn't continue. She stared at the mask for a moment, and then handed it back to him. "They're probably going to check up on you a few times, better keep it until things settle down. I'll explain to Fury."

"Thanks," he said taking it from her and setting it aside.

"Good luck, Steve," she said, turning to go.

"Wait," he said, "it's 9 PM. Are you planning on driving all the way back to Virginia tonight?"

"That's what coffee and Redbull are for, yes."

"You should stay here and rest, head out in the morning," he said.

"I don't think so," she said. "You don't have to coddle. I stayed up once for four days straight on a mission back at S.H.I.E.L.D. I can handle a car ride."

"What will you do, when you get back?"

"Well, like I said earlier, I want to build a tiny house on the property. Out of sight of the main house, maybe it at the bottom of the hill, but still within walking distance of my family. As for anything else, who knows? My record might be expunged for helping you, but that doesn't mean any intelligence agencies want to return my phone calls. My name is mud in that area. Which sucks because that was all I was ever trained how to do. I guess I could find something to do with myself that makes use of my skills. Maybe private investigation or something. I'll need to look into that."

Steve felt that familiar feeling of guilt again. He had put her in this position. "You…you could ask Hill if there's any positions in Stark Industries. Security or research or something. You would probably be good at that."

He expected her to be irritated, but she looked thoughtful. "They are headquartered at the tower here in New York. It would mean having to move up here. I'm not sure I'm ready to be away from my family so soon after just getting them back. I think for now, I'll just see about building that tiny house, it'll keep me occupied."

"I… I could help you," he said. "I might not be fighting crime anymore, but I can still lift heavy things."

"Steve," she began.

"I know you don't trust me," he said in a rush. "And I know I'm going to have to make it up to you before you ever do again. But I owe you a lot more than heavy lifting skills. And I hurt you, and your family, even if they don't know it. I'm long past due for reparations towards the Carters. At least let me do something."

"Steve," she groaned. She placed a hand on her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm too tired to argue with you. You can't just disappear out of this apartment, Sam and Bucky will look for you. By the way, what's going on with the others?"

"Bruce and Pepper are overseeing the cleanup, the Wakandan industrial complex is helping a lot with that, since their technology can easily cut up wreckage and recycle it into usable material. They've already put a massive dent in cleaning up the alien bodies and technology. The wizards have helped with that too, opening portals to places where it can all be dumped. They should have what's left of the compound land cleaned up in just a couple of months. Wanda went home with Clint to spend some time at the farm recuperating. I told you about Thor and the Guardians already, and Danvers is heading back out to do what she does out in the universe. Up until now, she's been helping with cleanup too. And if you're too tired to argue, stay here tonight. You shouldn't be driving."

Sharon felt her anger flash, but it subsided quickly. Unfortunately, he was probably right. With a sigh of resignation, she simply nodded and went down to the car to get her travel bag. Their next disagreement came over who was going to sleep in the bed. Steve wanted nothing more than to curl up next to her, but knew that was wishful thinking, and instead he would sleep on the couch and she could take the bed. In the end, they did paper, rock, scissors, with the winner deciding, and Steve won, so he insisted she take the bed. He stretched out on his couch and tried not to listen to her breathing only a few feet away.

As for Sharon, now it was her turn to lie in Steve's bed, inhaling his scent and trying to pretend she didn't want him next to her. Despite some tossing and turning, she fell asleep pretty quickly, listening to his soft breathing on the couch. But she was going to have to be firm in her resolve.

When Steve woke up the next morning, the bed was made and Sharon was gone. She left a note advising him to stay in New York for at least two weeks before thinking about coming down to help her with the tiny house. She accepted his offer of help as a way of making things right, but after that, she suggested, she suggested that they part ways. Permanently. Steve sat on the edge of the bed staring at the notes and tried not to cry.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

It was a pretty safe bet to say that Sharon Carter was utterly miserable. It had been two weeks since she had left Steve in his apartment in Brooklyn, and her hopes of putting him out of her mind permanently were dashed, as it was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid thinking about him. The drive down from New York back to the Carter estate had seemed much longer and than the drive up there. She was still incredibly angry and hurt, but as more miles were put between her and Steve, she began to question whether or not she was doing the right thing. She considered the video message that he had shown her from Peggy, how her aunt had implored her to look after him, not let him be alone, and here she was abandoning him to himself during a time when he probably needed someone the most. Although she was certain that her aunt would never implore her to keep getting involved with a man who seemed to overturn and upend her life every time he came into it, she also knew that in his current mental state, it could actually be dangerous to leave him alone. He was a World War II soldier who never came to terms with that as so many of the soldiers who returned from it never did, in addition to the drama of his being transplanted 70 years later, the fracturing of the Avengers and the two battles with Thanos. Simply put, the man had been through something that no human being should reasonably be expected to deal with and come through unscathed. No doubt, Peggy would have wanted her to at least make sure that he was OK and in a safe space before taking off. He was purposely separating himself from his longtime friends, which didn't leave him with much of a support system. People had become suicidal over far less, and here she was snapping off on him for his actions and then leaving him without saying goodbye. She had every right to be upset, but perhaps she had behaved too harshly towards him? At least three times on the drive home, she had had to talk herself out of turning the car around and going back. She settled for texting him to let him know that she had made it back in one piece, and the speed with which he replied and made her wonder if he had been sitting by the phone waiting for somebody to call.

It didn't help any either that it seemed some unearthly force had been keeping him on her mind during the entire drive home, for it seem like every song on every radio stations reminded her of him in some way and their situation. She was deeply lost in thought when the duet version of "Nobody wants to be lonely" by Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera came on, and she was too deep in thought notice until the lyrics permeated her distracted mind.

_Nobody wants to be lonely  
Nobody wants to cry  
My body's longing to hold you  
So bad it hurts inside_

Frantically, she punched the buttons on the radio of the rental car attempting to find something else to listen to, and landed on a station with commercials, then allowed her to relax for a minute, but then Air Supply's "All out of love" came on, and she found herself angrily punching the buttons again. Another station was playing Lara Fabian's "I will love again," so she ended up just turning off the radio. An hour later she tentatively tried another stations, figuring she was in the clear being in another state, and was greeted with Celine Dion's "All by myself." Swearing like a sailor, she punched the radio off and refused to put it back on again. She also sent up mental curses to whichever guardian angel thought this was completely hilarious, advising them to shove their halo where it don't shine.

She was never so happy to see her family's house as she was when she pulled up the driveway, the exception being a few weeks earlier when she had returned after the Dusting. The family asked her a few questions about where he was and if he was coming back, and she answered them as best she could, but told them she had no idea when they would see him next, which was the truth. She then spent that exhausted night barely sleeping at all, tossing and turning, trying to pretend his piney musky scent wasn't lingering on her pillow.

In the week that followed, she forced herself not to text him every hour, but instead contented for some for sending only two, both times asking how he was adjusting, and both times getting immediate replies that he was doing OK, and ignoring his follow-up questions that seemed to try to keep the conversation going. As before, she threw herself into work, helping her cousins get situated and starting the plans for building the new houses on the property.

The two slabs had been poured by the end of the week for both Cathy's house on one side of the property, and her tiny house on the other. The concrete would need several days to cure, but it had been done in conjunction with running the necessary waterlines and electrical lines, so as the second week after her return from New York neared the end, they could begin seriously thinking about how they wanted to proceed building the new buildings. It was getting crowded in the main house, and while everyone was trying their best to be accommodating, they were all starting to get on each other's nerves, and she knew Ed and Cindy would be glad to have the house back to themselves. Sharon was down by the foundation slab that had been poured for her tiny home, standing where she wanted to run a driveway down to the fence and install a gate so she wouldn't have to come up the main drive all the time, flipping through the book of tiny house designs when she saw her cousin Cathy coming down the makeshift walkway made of flagstones that they had laid down in the last three days coming down from the main house to hers.

"Hey, girl!" Cathy called cheerfully. "I hope you're not staring at that slab hoping that house will build itself."

"Just visualizing," Sharon replied, sitting on the hardened slab, trying fervently to study some more designs, trying to keep her mind off Steve.

The plan was to build Cathy's house first, for with her, Jeff and their three kids, moving them out of the main house first would ease the strain on everybody and help the kids begin to adjust, having their own place. Sharon had no problem sleeping in the basement for a little while longer. Cathy was probably coming down to tell her that she and Jeff had finally agreed on the set of plans that the freelance contractor had provided for them that morning, and to discuss what kind of help they could get in building the two structures. With so many people having reappeared suddenly all over the world, jobs were scarce, which meant that a lot of professionals and their crews were mostly freelancing. They had lined up a crew to do the framing of Cathy's house, but it was only a partial crew, which meant some of them were going to have to pitch in to help. Sharon didn't mind sawing some lumber, and Ed's 15 year old son Dan was looking forward to being allowed to use a pneumatic nail gun. Though she doubted the kid's mother had been informed of that.

Cathy sat down next to her.

"This is a pretty spot you've chosen," she said. "I used to come down here when I was a kid, I had a little weather station set up over there for a Girl Scout project. A hurricane blew it away though. But it's a good spot to watch the sun set through that break in the trees over there."

"Yeah it is," agreed Sharon, absentmindedly.

"It shouldn't take too long to frame up my house and get the walls up. Construction should go pretty quickly once we do that. Jeff is still lamenting that we didn't put a basement in, but I didn't want to basement at the bottom of the hill."

"Yeah," said Sharon, still not really listening.

"And after we get the house built, I was thinking of selling the kids to the circus and running an internet cam girl operation from one of the spare rooms to supplement my yoga studio income."

Sharon snapped back to attention and turned to give her cousin the stink eye.

Cathy laughed. "Hey, just seeing if you were paying attention. You sure are distracted lately. Yesterday you sprinkled sugar into the jasmine rice instead of salt and we all ended up eating sweet rice for dinner. Before that, you left your keys in the car and Jeff had to use a coat hanger to get it open. What's up with you? You're never that absent-minded. Something on your mind?"

Sharon looked at her cousin. Of all of Peggy's descendants, Cathy looked the most like her mother. Ed had a few features of his mother, but he tended to favor his father in appearance, as well as Peggy's brother Michael, who had been Sharon's grandfather. But Cathy was the spitting image of her mother. In fact, from a distance, it would have been hard to distinguish between the two. Sharon had noticed that Steve had a hard time looking at Cathy when he had been there, talking to her easily enough, but not looking directly at her. It must be difficult for him, she reasoned, to see someone so like the woman he had loved, but was not her, and was in fact living proof that she had ended up with someone else. Cathy had Peggy's facial structure, her nose and mouth, and especially her smile. Her auburn brown hair was the same color as her mother's, and something about the way she held her self was reminiscent of Peggy as well. However, on closer inspection, there were some obvious differences. Cathy's eye's were more like her father's, with the same penetrating stare for which Daniel Sousa had been famous, especially when he was working on a problem. Her hair was straight, where her mother's was naturally wavy, her figure more thin and lanky like her father than Peggy's curvier figure, and of course she spoke with an American accent and not a British one. In her mid-50s, Cathy looked pretty good for her age, but there were streaks of gray in her hair, and her slower movements as of late reminded Sharon that her cousins were not exactly young anymore.

However, in temperament and interests, the women could not have been more different. Where Sharon and Peggy had shared many similar interests in puzzle solving, logical approaches to problems, intelligence work and all that came with it, Peggy's daughter had taken a much different path. Cathy, having grown up during the 1960s, still had much of her flower-child youth in her personality. She was all about healthy living, eating naturally, meditation, and showed a great deal of interest in New Age practices. That had caused Peggy to roll her eyes so hard it was amazing they had not popped out and rolled around on the floor. The differences in their personalities had caused some distance between Peggy and her daughter, which they had tried to mend when Peggy got sick, but had not been entirely mended when she died.

But it had been Cathy who had suggested going off the grid for the Carter estate, with solar panels and wind turbines and reclaimed rainwater. It had been her idea for the garden, the chickens, and the goats she still wanted but hadn't bought yet because Jeff and Ed were not sold on the idea. Her husband Jeff was much like her, in terms of off-grid living and going more natural, although not quite to the same extent, as he worked in accounting and had much more left brain tendencies than his wife. Cathy had been hired recently as a temporary yoga instructor at a local studio in town, and she seemed well suited for the job. One would think that with her head constantly in the clouds, though, that Cathy would be somewhat scatterbrained and clueless. And while she was prone to being so lost in thought that she had once put her car keys in the refrigerator, it didn't mean that she didn't notice things around her. While not as perceptive a profiler as her mother, Peggy had taught them all the basics of cold reading, profiling, and observation. Her children had not followed her into the spy life, but they could gauge motivations better than most people. And right now Cathy was scrutinizing Sharon in a way that made the former S.H.I.E.L.D./CIA operative a little uncomfortable.

"I've got plenty on my mind," said Sharon. "A lot of it I imagine it's the same stuff you must have on your mind. Getting a permanent place to live. Reinstating bank accounts. Reinstating driver's licenses. Trying to find work. On top of all that, you're trying to get your kids back in school, your husband's still looking for work, you have to deal with contractors..."

"Yeah, but I'm not having man trouble on top of all that," said Cathy. "Is that what's eating you? You've been moping around here like somebody died. No pun intended."

"I'm not having man trouble," Sharon grumbled.

"So you mean you aren't thinking about a particularly hunky 100-year-old super soldier who dropped in on your front lawn out of nowhere? Is he coming back anytime soon?"

"Steve has things to do," said Sharon trying her best to sound like she wasn't concerned. "We all do. I don't know when we'll see him next."

Cathy's eyes narrowed, and Sharon shifted uncomfortably. It was times like this that Cathy resembled her mother the most, and sometimes Sharon had the eerie sensation that she could almost hear her great aunt through Cathy's voice, even though Cathy's voice was higher. She was never able to fool Peggy, and to her chagrin, she knew Cathy wasn't buying her nonchalant act either.

"OK what happened? You to have a fight? Worse? You sleep with him and it didn't work out?"

"Cathy! For god's sake." said Sharon.

"Well which is it?" asked Cathy.

Sharon sighed. "All of the above."

"Wait you slept with him? Seriously?"

"It was before the snap," said Sharon defensively. "Five years ago. And it didn't work out. He's got, well issues, and aside from the obvious, it's a little difficult to overlook the fact that he once dated your mother."

To her surprise, Cathy shrugged. "You knew mom was engaged before the war right? Your grandfather Michael talked her out of it. She was irritated but he was right, she wouldn't have been happy married to Fred Wells. I know Steve Rogers is Captain America and all, and that's cool, but honestly, I no more think of him dating mom than mom dating Fred. To me, dad was the one who was important in her life, dad was the one she married. You with Steve is no different to me than saying you're with Fred Wells. I don't really make the mental connection, you know? It's still kind of hard for me to reconcile the guy mom was up with during World War II with the same guy who was washing the dishes in the kitchen a couple of weeks ago. I know that's the same person, but it's not making the emotional link, if that makes any sense."

"I guess it sort of does," said Sharon. "I do the same thing sometimes. That is, not make the link with Steve being the guy my aunt dated. Still, though, he's got a lifetime of issues I don't know that I'm equipped to handle."

"OK, so I have to ask, did every part of him get enhanced during the Project? Like, *everything*?" Cathy asked with a sly smile.

Sharon contented herself with giving Cathy another mock glare.

"Fine, don't answer, but I guess it explains why you've been moping around here recently. You should probably fix that. I recommend some alone time with him, preferably somewhere away from here where the family is all up in your business."

"You mean like nosy cousins? And did you miss the part where I said we had a fight? It was a pretty awful one too. I've never gotten that angry at anyone in my life."

"Jesus, what did he do?" asked Cathy.

"There's a lot of it I can't tell you," said Sharon. "Not because of anything emotional, but because a lot of it is top-secret. The only thing I can say is that he made a decision that I didn't agree with, highly didn't agree with, and he started to follow through on it, but wiser voices prevailed. If he had gone through with it, a lot of people could have been hurt. Now granted, he and the Avengers did manage to return everyone who had been Dusted back to the previous state, but what he planned to do next was incredibly selfish, and not like him at all. It was actually scary, Cathy, how ruthless he was in going forward with what he intended to do, thinking it would make him happy. And he didn't come to the conclusion on his own that it wasn't a good idea, sense had to be talked into him. Ultimately, his decision to even think about doing what he was going to do let me know that I don't matter to him as much as he apparently did to me. And I'm mad at myself for even letting him matter that much that he could hurt me."

"Well, you know," said Cathy, "that's the risk you take by loving someone, you have to be vulnerable to them. Was there someone else?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Sharon, "but I really don't want to go into it. It's no longer a factor now."

"Was this before or after you returned?"

"After actually," said Sharon.

"After he had just spent five years believing you were gone," said Cathy. "I think that fact is going to be the cause of the death of a lot of relationships. People who were Dusted and are now suddenly back, to them everything before just happened a few weeks ago, while their loved ones have just spent five years dealing with the trauma of losing them. They're not going to behave as if everything just happened yesterday. To them it didn't. People are going to be very different to each other than before. They'll behave differently."

"You're probably right," said Sharon, "but I'm not going to make the mistake of thinking that I am important to him. Every time that man comes into my life, he turns it up in the end. I'm at a point now where I really can't afford that anymore."

"So you'd rather be miserable, torture yourself over him?" asked Cathy. "You're not even going to try to make things right? I'm guessing he told you all this? That's a good sign right there, but he felt he could come clean with you. Did he apologize? How did you react?"

"I smacked him hard enough to level him," admitted Sharon.

"Well I suppose that got your point across," said Cathy raising her eyebrows. "Do you think he deserved it?"

Sharon dropped her head. "Probably not," she admitted. "And he did apologize. I mean I have every right to be mad at him, but maybe I shouldn't have smacked him that hard. I kind of feel bad about that."

"How did he take it?" asked Cathy. Sharon told her cousin she could of what she had said to Steve after he had admitted what it done, without going into details, because after all it involved the man sleeping with an alternate timeline version of her mother. She doubted Cathy would be very charitable if she knew that particular bit. If she were honest with herself, she totally understood why he had taken the chance he had taken. And maybe it's what needed to happen for him to understand that his past was truly his past. She got to the point where she had left him at his Brooklyn apartment, leaving out the part about where she had helped him fool all his teammates into thinking he was elderly, because there would be no way to explain that without admitting that there was time travel involved. At which point her cousin, whose reasoning was sharp as her mother's, would probably put the pieces together.

"I feel bad about just leaving him there," Sharon admitted. "I'm still pissed off at him, but I don't think I did the right thing and leaving him alone. I really question his mental state, I think he might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I've texted him a few times, and he seems OK, but you can't really get a sense of that through text."

"Well," said Cathy, "it seems to me like the situation is in dire need of a remedy, and the solution is simple. Get his ass down here to help us build these houses. Didn't you say he offered to help? If a muscle-y, hunky Avenger offered to build my house for me, I definitely take him up on that."

"I don't know," said Sharon, "I just brought him back up there."

"So get him back down," said Cathy. "We have vehicles now. Not horses and carriages like when he was a kid. Hell, I'm sure one of his buddies up there even has something that flies they can bring him down."

Sharon shrugged, again choosing to leave out the part where he wasn't going to be an Avenger anymore. That could come later. But she was thinking about what Cathy had said. She didn't want to admit it, but the thought of seeing him again actually made her feel a little happier than she was a few minutes ago, and she admitted she would feel relieved if she knew where he was so she could keep an eye on him until she knew he was mentally OK. He shouldn't be alone. Maybe he had betrayed her family in a momentary lapse in sanity, but ironically, maybe being around them was exactly what he needed to come to terms with everything himself. And to have some company, since he couldn't be with the Avengers anymore.

"I'll call him," she said. "But I'm not expecting much. He's probably had enough time to think about everything and become pretty pissed at me."

"Well, I guess you'll find out when you call," said Cathy, getting to her feet a little bit slower than she would have only a few years ago. "Now come on, there's a humongous pan of lasagna up in the oven that needs to be eaten."

"This family eats too much lasagna. Way too many carbs," said Sharon, getting to her feet and following Cathy anyway. She was already formulating in her mind what she was going to say to Steve in the way of an apology for belting him without making it seem like she was OK with what he did. And to convince him to come back down. What was she ready for that?

***

Steve was on what had to be his 57th game of solitaire with a deck of cards he had picked up from the nearby drugstore. He knew there were apps he could put on his phone, but he tended to not think clearly when he played the electronic version, preferring a physical deck of cards like the ones that every soldier in his unit had in a pocket somewhere for downtime. He had to admit, his apartment was way too quiet, and going on the third week alone here without anything to really keep him busy was an exercise in solitary confinement, and in no way could be healthy for his current mental state. He was thinking about what Sharon had said, about whether or not he was having a nervous breakdown. He had to admit that he had to consider that possibility. The more he stepped back from his own perspective and saw it from other people's, he had to admit that his actions as of late had been pretty abnormal. He had only made the decision to go back in time permanently the night before he was supposed to return the stones, and that was a snap decision that should never be made on emotion and in that short of a timeframe. If anyone had come to him saying they were thinking of doing something like it, or made that kind of short term decision for a mission, he would've said they were crazy, even sidelined them from the mission due to impaired judgement. That was the sort of thing that made you question a person's mental readiness to do their job.

His mind was a jumble of confusion, and hurt. No matter how hard he tried to stay busy, at some point every hour, sometimes more, his mind would gift him with the mental image of Sharon's face as she had realized what he had done, the hurt and anger, the sting of her hand against his cheek. She had every right to be furious with him. He should count himself lucky that she was even still texting him. As eager as he had been to get back to Peggy, he had to admit he was surprised at how much it hurt to lose Sharon this way, even as a friend. He was only just starting to come to terms with how things had gone with Peggy, he wasn't even close to processing everything he now had to deal with coming back. He had no idea where to start.

It was probably a good thing that she had left the mask with him, because Bucky had come by twice unexpectedly and Sam once already, to check on him and make sure he was alright. They had brought him groceries, and a few other items they thought he might need, and sat to talk for a while, the entire time of which he had been nervous they would discover his secret and that he was wearing the mask. Bucky in particular had wanted to talk about Peggy and the Commandos, assuming that Steve had indeed gone back and stayed the whole 80 years. Steve hated lying to his friend, and almost came clean a couple of times, but tried to answer what he thought Bucky wanted to hear and then tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, to what his plans would be from now on.

He had told his friends that since he was officially retired, he wanted to do what other retirees did, lay on a beach somewhere, and go on trips across the country. They seemed skeptical, thinking him a little too frail for that, but he had told them about a specialized tour for seniors that went on a large coach bus to various places across the country. He lamented that he had spent his whole life fighting for the country, but had never really gotten a chance to actually see it. For instance, he said he wanted nothing more than to see Mount Rushmore and some of the locations around Philadelphia where the Declaration of Independence had been signed and the Liberty Bell. He showed them a printout he had gotten from the library of several tour groups that ran these sorts of trips for elderly people, providing accommodations for physical limitations, and the best part being that the bus did all the driving, and dropped you off right in front of where you wanted to go, reducing the need for walking and finding parking.

They had seemed to accept this without too much question, even seemed grateful and relieved that he would not be sitting in his apartment as he was currently doing, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. They had finally left, telling him that they would be out of the country for a little while investigating a problem that the CIA was apparently having, with some of its high profile criminals having escaped CIA custody during the commotion involving the Snap and the return.

They had left that morning, eliciting promises from Steve to send them pictures of his travels so they knew he was OK. Steve had to fight down the urge to reveal his subterfuge and offer to go with them, as the lure of another mission was strong. But he resisted and saw them off, knowing they could handle it on their own. Then he went back up to his apartment to play cards with himself and see about actually registering for one of the tours, assuming Fury didn't come demanding the mask back. He knew he was probably also going to have to get some kind of therapy or counseling for his mental state, but honestly, he wasn't really sure how to go about doing that. After all, any therapist he went to was going to have to be told some something of the truth about who he was and what he had been through, and assuming that therapist knew how to address his particular situation, it would mean blowing his cover to a certain extent. He had been contemplating doing some form of Skype therapy, and telling whoever he ended up with that he was a coma survivor, but he was still trying to work in the five-year period of Snap and Dusting, and he was not really motivated to come up with the kind of lie he would need to tell.

The game of solitaire he was playing did not appear to have a solution, and he sat back frustrated. For some reason he was on the verge of tears and he didn't know why. He hadn't anticipated how hard it was going to be coming back here and then divesting himself of the Avengers. He knew it would be a major change for him, as the Avengers had been his saving grace when he first woke up from the ice, giving him something to do and focus on, and he supposed on a certain level he had assumed that Sharon would be part of his readjustment, at least from the conversations he had with Peggy about where Sharon had fit into his life. But now here he was, with night coming on and he had not left his apartment all day, not able to finish a simple game of solitaire, and with literally no use for himself. He felt an overwhelming sense of darkness starting to descend upon him. Cruel thoughts begin to swirl around in his mind, that he had overestimated his importance to the people in his life, that Peggy had moved on without him in every timeline, Sharon seemed to be doing the same, and the Avengers were functioning well without him. What did that mean for his continued existence in any timeline? That he outlived his usefulness? Did anyone even miss him? He had never given much thought to what would happen to him after he stopped soldiering. Truth be told, he always assumed he would die in the war, or that the Project would eventually kill him. Nobody knew what Erskine's serum would do to him long term, and it was entirely possible that it would end up being lethal. But whatever the scenario, he always envisioned himself at least being useful, that everything he had endured up to this point had been worth it for the sake of the greater good. Was that still the case now?

He suddenly became aware that his phone was buzzing. He looked down and felt both a thrill of surprise and anticipation wash over him when he saw that it was Sharon calling, not texting but actually calling. And then he felt a sense of dread. Was she in trouble? She had made it quite clear that she wanted nothing further to do with him, aside from the two texts she had sent him, and now she was calling? Steve snatched up the phone and answered.

"Hi Steve," she said, sounding cautious, and weary.

"Hi," he answered. "Is everything OK?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I admit, I'm surprised you're calling," he said. "I figured you were probably still mad at me, so if you're calling the most be something wrong."

"Reasonable assumption I guess," she said. "But no, nothing is wrong. I was just calling, checking to see if you were still OK."

He was surprised, but refrained from saying so. "I am…fine… thanks. A little bored maybe. A bit at a loss of what to do with myself, but otherwise unharmed."

"Good," she said, but seemed a little unsure of what she should say next.

"So, uh, does this call mean, uh, that you're not mad at me anymore?" he stammered.

"I'm still mad but…I shouldn't have hit you. I wanted to say I'm sorry about that. That was uncalled for. I should have left the room. Both of us are, well, lethal in hand to hand combat. If I had levelled that on anyone else, it would have done some real damage. I shouldn't have let my temper get a hold of me. I mean I have every right to be mad, and I won't lie, it'll be a while before I'm over it, but…that doesn't mean I should go around hitting."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I get it. And I'm…uh…sorry too. I didn't really think about how it would hit you. I probably should have done a better job considering how you'd take it."

Accepted," she said, before they both fell silent again.

"Do you have any plans for the future?" she asked.

He told her about looking into the bus tour with other seniors, granted most would be veterans who fought in wars like Korea and Vietnam, none from World War II, but it would likely be people he could relate with. He briefly mentioned about Sam and Bucky heading off to Europe to look into the CIA personal problem.

"That doesn't sound good," said Sharon. "I'm pretty sure the CIA doesn't want me back, but I admit I'm curious who they lost. Hope it wasn't Zemo. It was far too costly and traumatic to put him away the first time."

"Agreed," said Steve, not really knowing what to say after that. Both of them were no longer a part of that world. So he asked about her family.

Thankfully she refrained from making any mention of his concern for them after having no problem traveling to a different timeline where his planned actions would ensure their existence would never happen, but instead she told him about laying down the foundations for the two houses, how Cathy was finally working at a yoga studio, Jeff had gotten some work with H&R Block, Ed had gotten a job at his old company back, and Cindy had decided now was a good time to be a stay at home mom and wait for some new neighborhoods to be built before she went back into real estate. The children were all in the process of taking placement exams to determine where they would be placed in school, which had already started a few weeks ago, but for which the local school district had given them some homework to do in order to keep up. They were supposed to be starting school again in a couple of weeks, something of which none of the kids were happy about.

"And what about you?" he asked. "What are you doing with yourself?"

"Overseeing house construction for now, and then who knows?" she answered. "With my skill set, there's only a limited number of places that I could work to put all of my skills to use, and presently none of those organizations are even returning my phone calls. I'm pretty sure nobody even wants to talk to me. So I was thinking freelance, like my friend Bobbie Morse and her husband Hunter. They used to work with Phil Coulson's group. Maria Hill suggested what you did, that I should look into working for Stark, but I'm not sure about that right now. And I'm not sure I want to go with Phil's group either. I'm just looking at all my options. I don't know, I might decide I'm done with life too. It's early for me, but no one stays in forever."

"Yeah," said Steve

They were silent for a few moments before Sharon started up again. "So is there any chance I could talk you out of the bus tour for a little while? Are you absolutely itching to go right away?"

He perked up. "Why? What did you have in mind?"

"Back when you were down here, you offered to help with building the houses. Is that still an option for you? We were able to hire a couple of crews off and on, but with the construction industry being what it is, with most established crews tearing down dilapidated houses and rebuilding new ones, we aren't going to be able to get anyone regularly. We're going to have to do some of the work ourselves. And frankly you can lift more than all of us."

"I should warn you, I don't know anything about building houses," he said.

"Neither do we," she replied. "We have a professional overseeing it and doing most of the work, so at least they can keep us from making too many mistakes. But if you don't want to come down I get it, but it would be, well, nice if you would."

To his surprise, Steve smiled. And the dark thoughts just left, along with the weight on his chest, like they had never been there. He knew she wasn't offering a relationship, or even a friendship, but she was offering an olive branch, and he recognized what it was. He was eager to take it.

"Actually," he said, "that sounds like fun. Can you give me a week to get down there?"

"Sure," she said, "we're not exactly in a rush, although we would like to have it done by Christmas. At least Cathy's house. Mine can wait a bit. Just let me know when you're planning to come down. And I'll see you when you get here."

"You bet. And Sharon? Thanks," he said.

They hung up and he rushed to grab his stuff off of the closet and begin to pack.


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies for the delay on this chapter. I ended up accidentally losing the entire chapter file I was working on and had to rewrite it when I couldn't salvage it. I also had to write it piecemeal on my phone while my kid did swim lessons in the afternoon. Consequently, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but hopefully the next one will be better. And this is certainly turning out to be a longer story than I thought.**

In actuality, it took Steve nearly a week to leave and by the time he did, he was "chomping at the bit," as his mother used to say, to go. His initial plan had been to throw every piece of relevant clothes he could fit into his surplus army duffel, rent a car and drive down to Virginia, but this was hamstrung by the fact that Wanda called to chat, and he had to pull everything he had out of his hat to chat with her and not give away any secrets, because he wasn't certain if her telepathic powers worked over the phone and could detect his deception. Most of the conversation involves him talking her out of encouraging Bruce to come up with some way to make the time devices work without the Pym particles, because after seeing him apparently go back in time to the life he thought he had always wanted, and for the Guardians to bring an alternative timeline version of Gomorra into this, the primary, timeline, now she wondered if it was possible to go to another timeline and bring Vision back. It was extremely hard to talk her out of that plan without seeming like the world's biggest hypocrite, and in the end, he managed to talk her off the cliff and remind her that Vision was not like human beings, that it might be possible to rebuild him with Shuri's help, as the Wakandan princess had suggested many things to Bruce during the battle of Wakanda against Thanos that would have made Vision far more stable. During the process of attempting to remove the Mind stone, she had backed up his neural network, and Steve urged Wanda to get in contact with them to see if they still had the backup, as rebuilding Vision might not be out of the realm of possibility. Considerably brightened by this prospect, Wanda had thanked him, and made him promise to send her pictures from his supposed bus tour as well. Then, after she had hung up, he had called Bruce to implore him that under no circumstances was anybody to use those time travel devices again.

Bruce assured him that the devices did not have enough fuel to work any longer, and that they were under lock and key, though Steve neglected to mention that he knew that Hank Prym was still very much alive and could re-create the particles if he had to. In fact, he must have some in his lab, as that was what Scott Lang used to power his Ant Man suit. But Steve was reasonably sure that Wanda was not going to try anything silly with the time devices as he had, told Bruce that he was going on the bus trip, even registered for it and set up with one of the other participants to have the man send him pictures of the trip so that he could forward them to his friends as his own.

All of this took a few days to set up, but since the tour group wasn't leaving for another few more days, he couldn't really leave before then lest his friends check up on him and discover he didn't leave when he said he was going to. He hated being paranoid, but he was determined to maintain his cover for now. With everything packed and his apartment taken care of, all the perishables thrown out because he didn't know how long he was going to be, he let his neighbors know he would be gone for him while traveling with other seniors, went down to the departure area and took a picture of himself in the crowd with the bus to forward to all of his friends, and then slipped away back to his rental car, and began the journey back down towards Virginia.

He was surprised with how eager he was to see Peggy's family again, and part of him felt a bit guilty about staying at their house and eating their food, so he definitely planned to contribute, knowing what he had done to and with their mother in an alternate timeline. Part of him wanted to come clean, but seeing as how that had gone south with Sharon, he knew it was probably best left up to her as to how much to tell her cousins. He called Sharon to let her know that he was on the road, and she handed the phone off to Ed for a few minutes, he wanted to talk to him about logistics of him staying at the house and helping with the family. The man was pleasant enough, though Steve could tell he was relieved when Steve said he intended to contribute to the household and not just stay there. He even offered to stay in a hotel, but Ed would not hear of it. Admittedly, space was limited. His choices were on the couch in the living room, or the basement with Sharon. Figuring he was disturb fewer people if he stayed in the basement with Sharon, he made a mental note to get a cot or an air mattress when he got there.

The last hour on the road through the Washington DC traffic seemed to take forever, and as he passed by the capital, he couldn't help but remember the first time he had actually laid eyes on Sharon, when she had been living across the hall from him when they both working in the S.H.I.E.L.D. DC facility, the Hub. Back when he thought she was just a cute nurse named Kate who lived across the hall. Back before he had known who she was. He remembered thinking she was cute, even mentioning to Peggy in the nursing home, who had been in the process of telling him he should start dating, right about the time Natasha had been badgering him to do the same, and he had actually mentioned that there was a cute girl in his building, and Peggy had actually encouraged him to do so. Not knowing it was her own niece of course. The girl across the hall with the adorable smile and bright blue eyes had featured heavily into some of his more guilty yet vivid fantasies. More than once he had woken up hard as a rock from a dream involving her. At first he felt somewhat ashamed of his thoughts, given how he was raised, and that this was a woman other than the one he believed had been his soulmate. It had been a hurtful shock and betrayal to learn she was S.H.I.E.L.D. He had spent the next two years trying to put her out of his mind, knowing he was being unfair to be angry at her for doing her job, but his efforts mostly failed and she kept popping up in his daydreams. Then they had met again at the funeral and he had learned the full truth about her. That had been an emotionally unsettling time for him, to say the least. He had to admit that given the turmoil of that time, he hadn't exactly been fair to her.

He also learned that much of his perception about her previously had been correct, though. She really was bright and friendly, "nice" as Nat had said, but also intense, somewhat cynical with a sharp sense of humor and a firm sense of right and wrong and loyalty. She wasn't easily pushed around or swayed, and if she gave you her help it was because she believed what she was doing was right for all, not just you. She was strong, mentally and physically, and he had truly wanted to form something long term and meaningful with her. Not that they had gotten off to a smooth start. They never really figured out what she was to him, with his tendency to retreat when she got too close was a problem. They were friends, certainly, but their attempts to foray into a romantic relationship had hit bumps, mostly due to him. The one time they had sex had been rushed and desperate, a form of making up after a severe difference of opinion, a rushed exercise in need fulfillment, much as his one time with Peggy had been, though far more intense with Sharon given that they had been angry at each other at the time. In the end, though he hadn't regretted it, for it had been his first time, it had seemed as if something was missing. Now he knew that factor had been unconditional love. He had cared for her at the time, as he knew she did him, but had they loved each other? He honestly didn't know. With Peggy, he had known he loved her, though it was the idealistic love of a first love, the kind that didn't always live up to reality over time.

And then Sharon was gone, lost in the Dusting. That had caused a regret and pain he had not been expecting, and he had hardened his heart. He had spiraled into a regression of sorts, telling himself that she hasn't meant as much to him as Peggy, focusing on Peggy and the idealized notion of his first love as a means of coping with losing the second. Losing them both. It had taken traveling back in time and having Peggy herself show him that she was not the idealized goddess he had made her to be in his mind, but a real life woman with her own life and own self, a path without him on it, to make him see how wrong he had been. Before he had even pressed the button to return, he had been eager to see Sharon again, to know she was ok, returned from the Dusting. To have her get so angry as to reject him had shaken him to his core. He still didn't know if he loved her, for what he felt was different from what he felt for Peggy, but he did know he needed her. For what he wasn't sure, though he definitely wanted to make things right again with her, but he only knew that the prospect of seeing her again, making up with her, sleeping in the same room with her, made him feel positively giddy. He briefly wondered if all of this was also a sign of finally going bonkers before he firmly squelched such thoughts and turned onto the street leading up to the estate.

***

Steve parked the car next to an SUV, probably Cindy's, and got out to stretch. He was about to grab his duffel out of the trunk when the front door opened and Ed's wife Cindy came out. With a smile, she skipped down the porch steps and engulfed him in a genuine hug.

"Steve! So glad you're back!"

He was a little surprised but returned the hug and stepped back. Cindy looked tired and worn but genuinely happy to see him. That caught him by surprise. He hadn't realized just how isolated he had contained himself until someone who was still mostly a stranger greeted him like an old friend. Cindy gave him a smile that was almost grateful.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Sharon's been moping around here like a lost puppy the last couple of weeks. She says she's just tired and overwhelmed, but Cathy doesn't think so."

Steve frowned. "What does Cathy think?"

"That she's slightly depressed," said Cindy. "I mean we've all been thrown for a loop, but Sharon's been outright sad these last few weeks. Hoping you being here will perk her up a bit."

Steve shifted uncomfortably. Clearly Sharon's family didn't know that he was the source of why Sharon was so out of sorts, and he felt another pang at the thought of the pain he had caused her. But firm resolve set in. He was here to help, and try to make things right, and that's what he was going to do. From the sounds of things, he was going to have to start from the ground up with Sharon and try to reforge just a friendship with her, never mind something else. In fact, she might never trust him again, but he was going to have to live with that. But whatever happened, he was determined that by the time he left this place, they would at least be friends again.

"Where is she?" he asked.

Cindy pointed down a newly forged path that he had not seen before, flanked with flagstones. "Down that way," she said. "That's the site of Cathy's new house. They're working on that first. Sharon's is down that way."

She pointed in the opposite direction and Steve saw another path leading down to another portion of the property.

Nodding, he hoisted his duffel out of the car. "I'll go down and see if I can help," he said. "Is there somewhere I can put this for now?"

"Yeah," she said. "Sharon set up a spot for you in the basement with her. Ed pulled down an old army cot that was up in the attic, and we found some sheets and pillows you can use. You can put your stuff there."

"Thanks," he said. "Do you need anything before I head down?"

"No, thanks, that's sweet of you," she said. "I'm just cooking dinner for everyone. They're going to be hungry. They've all been working all day. In fact I should get back to that."

They parted ways in the kitchen, with Cindy going back to cooking, and Steve heading down to the basement that was serving as Sharon's room. Had it only been a few weeks since he had been here, telling her his awful story and their heart wrenching fight? It seemed like forever ago. Though the room was still unchanged, except for a spot in the corner, which seemed to have been sectioned off using an old changing screen that had to be as old as he was. It had probably belonged to Peggy. He looked behind it, and sure enough there was an army cot set up with several sheets and blankets and a pillow, a crate serving as a nightstand with a lamp on it, and a power strip for plugging in devices. He smiled. It wasn't going to be as comfortable as his apartment back in Brooklyn, but it was certainly not the worst place he had ever slept in. He dropped his duffel on the cot, then headed back upstairs, down the path towards the sound of voices and music and hammering.

It was only a short walk down to the spot where Cathy's house was being built. Although the slab had been poured, they were in the process of clear cutting a few trees with chainsaws to clear out yard space. About three men Steve didn't recognize were wielding chainsaws, taking down a tree here and there, while Sharon, Cathy, Jeff, and the children worked to cut up the smaller trees and stack the wood. Cathy's husband Jeff, and Sharon, were wielding smaller chainsaws to cut up the felled trees, while Cathy was directing the children to haul the wood and stack it in an orderly fashion. Ed's son, 15-year-old Dan, and Kathy's oldest, 14-year-old Jack, were using handsaws to make larger branches smaller for the younger children to haul, as 11-year-old Jude and 10-year-old Hannah worked with Cathy to stack the wood. Eight-year-old Ryan was doing his best to keep up, but it seemed he was easily distracted and kept wandering off. Steve figured the best course of action was to wander up to Sharon and let her know he was here, and ask how he could be most useful. He turned back from watching the children to look for Sharon, and his mouth went dry.

She had put down the chainsaw and was bent over trying to dislodge a tangle of branches for someone to haul over to the pile. She was wearing what looked like an old workout outfit, her hair up in a messy ponytail, dirt streaked across her cheek, wearing a tank top that was plastered to her torso with sweat. The workout shorts she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, leaving her strong muscular legs bare. At that very moment, his mind decided to torture him with the mental image of the last time he had seen her bare legs like that. They had been wrapped around his waist as he eagerly thrust into her. Almost immediately, his traitorous body decided to join his traitorous mind, and he was instantly half hard. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard and shook his head, biting back a groan. He absolutely could not afford this right now, not with her family, the children, right there less than 50 feet away. And no doubt, she was in no mood for that. She was still mad at him, he had hurt her. She didn't trust him and wanted nothing more of such things from him. She had made that pretty clear, and he didn't blame her. He was here to help, as a means of making things up to her and a means of keeping himself busy. The relationship part was over, largely due to him. He was going to have to keep himself in check while he was here, though he suddenly realized just how difficult that was going to be if this is how he reacted to her just chopping up the tree. How the hell was he going to sleep in the same room with her tonight? Or every other night following, for that matter? He forcefully tried to think of freezing cold showers and math puzzles to quell his sudden arousal.

At that moment, though, she spotted him and straightened up.

"Hey! You made it," she said. "Just in time too, the kids are getting tired hauling all these trees. Think you can help them? If you're not too tired from the drive?"

He gave himself a mental shake and forced himself to focus. "Yeah, I can do that, and no, not too tired," he said. "I was just about to ask you how I could help. I'll, uh, get right on that. To that. I mean."

He bit his tongue, try not to sound like an idiot, gave her what he hoped was just a platonic and friendly smile, waved to the other adults who called greetings, and then jogged off to help the younger children haul the wood. If he had to, he was going to haul the entire damn tree to distract himself.

***

Three hours later, the three younger children had thrown in the towel and hiked back up to the main house to clean up and play video games, while everybody else did their best to try to finish up what they could. Steve's arrival had certainly helped quite a bit, for as he promised himself, he hauled entire damn trees to distract himself, much to the impressed stares of the children, and sideways impressed glances of the adults. The older boys had taken to asking Steve how much he could bench press, could he really throw a motorcycle over his head, and did he think he could arm wrestle a gorilla? Steve's demonstration of strength in hauling entire trees over to the wood pile, and taking the chainsaw from Jeff to cut them up was pretty much all the proof anyone needed at his strength.

For her part, Sharon was trying not to stare. Cathy had come by a few hours earlier to whisper in her ear that she was glad Steve was there, for no reason other than at some point it was highly likely that his shirt was coming off while he worked. Sharon knew her happily married cousin was only joking, saying such things to put a barb in Sharon's brain, but to her chagrin, the mental image of Steve without his shirt on was distracting her from her work, and she was still holding a chainsaw. She tried not to think about the last time she had seen him with his shirt off, although admittedly it had been kind of dark. But she did distinctly remember the way his bare chest had pressed against hers, pinning her to the mattress as he had settled between her legs.

_'Stop it!'_ she mentally smacked herself.

That was done with. That part was over. He had made his choice, and the circumstances of the world had driven them apart. She wasn't in any mood to pursue such things again. Neither of them were ready for that and might never be. The previous attempts had been a disaster. OK, so she was a healthy heterosexual young woman and he was extremely easy to look at. That was perfectly normal. But she was a trained spy. Most of her life had been about focusing on the task at hand, and she was not about to quit doing that now. Muttering a curse, she turned her back to Steve working, and continued to chop up the last tree that the crew had felled before leaving an hour earlier.

Cathy dropped the last of the small branches onto the small branch pile, then turned a full circle, surveying the area that would become her backyard. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, in a gesture that was reminiscent of Peggy, but was also uniquely her own.

"You know what we need here, guys? We need a pool."

Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

"A pool?" asked Jeff, wiping the sweat from his brow and looking at his wife like she had lost her mind.

"Yeah! A pool! Maybe not an in-ground pool, maybe one of those above ground things. We could put it right here, and build a deck around it. Put some deck chairs, layout in the sun. Jump in when we get overheated like we all are now. Doesn't that sound great?" she asked.

"It sounds like a lot of work," said Jeff. "And where you're standing is where you wanted to put the chicken coop, and over there is where you wanted to put the goat run. Where exactly would you plan to put a pool in between those?"

"We could clear some more space for the chickens and the goats," said Cathy. "Maybe over there, and put the pool here."

Everybody groaned wearily, including Steve, who had been frantically trying to get the mental image of Sharon in a bathing suit out of his mind. Although he had to admit he was also on the verge of laughter. Cathy really was a riot. It was like watching Peggy's less serious twin crack jokes.

"What?!" she exclaimed. "Come on, people. Don't be such spoilsports. It's only a few more trees."

"Cathy," said Sharon trying to keep the exhaustion out of her voice, "it's not as simple as just putting down a pool and a deck. Pools require maintenance. You have to get in there with the net and scoop out leaves, you need some little vacuum thing that scoops up stuff from the bottom, you need to balance the pH or some shit like that. You're going to do that on top of chasing chickens and goats?"

"Besides, aren't those not environmentally friendly?" asked Steve, hoisting the last log on top of the log pile.

"Salt water systems are a lot more environmentally friendly, and don't require as much chemistry," said Cathy. "Look, I'm just thinking aloud, nothing needs to be done today. Especially chopping more trees."

"Good, because I'm beat," said Jack tossing down his power tools as he prepared to follow Dan up the trail.

"Hold up there," said Jeff pointing to the tools. "First we pick up, then we head back up to the house."

The kids grumbled but did as they were told. Steve and Sharon helped secure the tools, and then the group trudged back up to the house like battle survivors.

"How was the drive?" asked Sharon as they walked behind the rest of the group.

"Not bad," he responded, thinking to himself that it had come to this, that they were reduced to making small talk. But he figured they had to start somewhere. They talked about the drive between New York and Virginia, the state of the world as people learned to readjust with the sudden reappearance of half of the population, how it was not limited to just the human population, but all of a sudden animal species had appeared on both land and sea which was causing issues with the ecosystem. Steve told her about something he had seen on TV not long ago where ecologists and biologists have been worried about the sudden reappearance of certain animals causing problem with farmland and the natural balance of nature. He wanted to talk more with her about their falling out and how they might try to salvage a friendship if nothing else, but he sensed that she wasn't quite ready for that. It wasn't really in his nature, but he knew this time he was going to have to take his time.

When they reach the main house, everyone went their separate ways to take showers and get ready for dinner. After he took his own shower, he joined the family in the kitchen for dinner, which consisted of three meatloafs and a huge pot of mashed potatoes. There wasn't enough room at the dining room table for everyone, so he and Sharon and Ed and Jeff ate at the counter while everyone else crowded around the table. Conversation centered around the building of the houses, and everyone going back to work and school. He could sense that the children were not especially eager to go back to school, since many of them had friends who had either moved away after coming back, or were five years older than the last time they had met. Cathy's children especially would be starting a new school not knowing anybody, and their nervousness was evident.

But he hadn't really thought about how his own presence might be affecting this transition until Sharon reiterated to everybody that they were not to let anyone know that Steve was there, because he was trying to take some time to himself after the battle with Thanos and what had gone down with the Avengers, and everyone promised not to say anything, the children promising twice. But Steve was a little concerned, not that he thought they would intentionally squeal on him, but in effort to impress new friends, would they casually mention that Captain America was staying at their house? He hoped not. After dinner, as he and Sharon both admitted to abysmal cooking skills, they firmly ensconced themselves as dishwashers and table clearers, allowing the families to go spend some time together. He and Sharon set about cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen. For his part, he was glad to feel useful.

"I've pretty much lived on take out my adult life," Sharon admitted, as he washed and she dried.

"For me it was usually army field rations," he said with a smile, pulling out a Mayday bar from his pocket and cracking it open.

"You're still eating those?" she asked.

"They taste better than the 2000 calorie lifeboat rations, and they're smaller," he said. "These have 3000 calories They're meant to last a day and a half for a normal adult, usually for hikers which is why they're smaller. They fit better in a pocket and they come in chocolate. If I eat one a day, I can eat normally the rest of the day."

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "I guess I never really thought about you having a metabolic condition because of the serum. It's lifelong I guess?"

"Yes," he said, "though I wonder if the serum will ever wear off? I doubt I'd need so many calories then. Of course I'd probably age to my natural age too."

Sharon found herself frowning. She had never really considered how the serum might affect his future. He was hale and healthy now, but would he always be? It gave her pause. If the serum ever wore off, it could actually impact his health severely. He was, after all, over 100 years old. It was something she kept thinking about even when he changed the subject to installing a second gate at the back of the property and running driveways from her spot and Cathy's to the second gate so they didn't have to come up the main drive.

"It would make getting construction trucks to the build sites," he said. "Ed was telling me that getting the cement trucks down to pour the slabs had been a nightmare."

"Yeah, it was," she agreed.

The families all had areas in the house where they like to congregate, and sometimes Sharon would join them, but this time she went down to the basement when they were finished with the dishes. At first Steve was unsure whether or not to join the rest of the family, or follow Sharon, but ultimately he decided to grab a mindless paperback off the shelf and curl up in a window while everyone did their own thing, and he gave Sharon some personal space. After all, if they were going to be sleeping in the same room, he didn't want to feel like he was intruding. After everyone had watched a few TV shows and had gone to bed, he was still in the window reading the Grisham novel he had started. When he looked up and saw it was after midnight, he calmly turned out the light and made his way down to the basement. The soft sound of breathing from the futon told him that if she wasn't asleep, she soon would be. He moved silently behind the screen to the cot and settled down on the unfamiliar sleeping space, and willed himself to go to sleep. Sleep was a long time coming.

*****

In the next several weeks, Steve fell into a routine that often involved Sharon as well. The kids started back to school, and the adults who had jobs started back to those, so that left mostly him and Sharon to oversee the construction of Cathy's house. First they started by installing the second gate they had planned into the wrought iron fencing, which involved rewiring the security system because it circumnavigated the entire property through the fencing and fed off its own power source that looked like an early Stark development in a shed at the bottom of the hill. Just figuring out that problem without Tony Stark had led him to working closely with Sharon in ways he had not previously encountered. He found he likes solving problems with her, and their conversation became less awkward and a bit more at ease. When they were discussing construction and improvements of property to accommodate all of the families, it was actually easier to talk to each other. They carefully avoided topics that could lead to disagreements, and instead found everything to talk about except their relationship. With Ed's approval, Steve facilitated getting a bulldozer to come and level the area for the two driveways once they had installed the second gate, and that became a project that he and Sharon were responsible for. Once that was done, they could get building cleans up to Cathy's house site more easily.

One day, he went looking for Sharon because there was a crew coming in to remove all the wood from the felled trees, and he wanted to know which site she wanted them to start with. Cindy told him that she had gone down to her own house site, so Steve went down the south path towards the site that would someday be Sharon's tiny house. He found her sitting on the slab, looking through the trees at the hills behind the property, wooded enough so that it was easy to forget that there was a neighborhood outside of the property. It really did look like they were out in the middle of nowhere. She looked up when he approached, and he noticed a look of melancholy on her face

"Everything OK?" he asked, sitting next to her and then wondering if he should have asked if he could sit first. He was forgetting his manners. But she didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, I think so," she said. "Just thinking about the fact that someday soon my own house will be here. A tiny one, but mine. It occurred to me that I never really had a place of my own to put down roots, you know. My dad was in the military and they moved around a lot, but after he was killed in action, me and mom lived here for a bit, and then I went off to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy and she went off on missionary work. Incidentally, she's supposed to be coming back in the next 2 weeks."

"Looking forward to meeting her," said Steve. "That is, if you want me to."

"Of course I do," she replied. "And then she'll probably be right back out there. Missionary work is really what she loves to do, she was never happy staying in one place. She wanted to join the Peace Corps when she was younger. But then I happened."

She smiled ruefully, and looked away.

"You told me once she didn't approve of you enlisting," said Steve.

"No, but I think it was because the job is so dangerous. The fact that she is in another country currently experiencing Ebola notwithstanding. She's in quarantine until she can return."

"Sounds unpleasant," said Steve.

"To say the least," she agreed. "I don't know, I know she's doing good in the world, and I don't want to criticize, but as a kid it was difficult not to feel left behind when she would take off like that. I know both of my parents loved me, but it always seemed like their professions came first, and dad's got him killed. Then mom couldn't handle her grief and left me with Peggy and Daniel and took off to all areas of the world to help other people's kids, but didn't stay to help her own. Peggy and Daniel were great, don't get me wrong, but they were elderly by that point, and Dan was already having severe health problems and trouble getting around, and Peggy was starting to show signs of memory loss. Ed and Cathy were both grown and starting their careers and looking to get married. It's hard not to feel left behind. The house I was staying in wasn't mine, and everyone always had something more important to them than me. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, like everybody else in my family I just threw myself into my work. But some days it really does suck."

Steve felt his heart twist a little. He has sort of already known some of this about Sharon, he had read her S.H.I.E.L.D. file after all. But hearing her actually say it in that melancholy tone made him realize how much of an impact everything had had on her, and how his own actions probably had not helped much. No wonder she had been so hurt at the thought of him turning his back on her. Up until this point, he had not really realized how much a stable relationship would mean to her, or a place to call home. He always just sort of figured she was like Natasha, calling home wherever she could lay down, and not having any roots to speak of. To people like Tony and Natasha, who had either dysfunctional families or no family, the Avengers became their family, at least for Tony before he had married Pepper. In a way they become Steve's as well. Sharon had a family but had felt apart from them up until now. He had not realized that just because he had held their relationship at arm's length and had focused only on their problems as justification to leave it behind that she had not done the same. While he had had five years to get over the loss of the relationship when she had disappeared, to her it had only ended a few weeks ago, and spectacularly at that.

Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder, wanting to hug her but not wanting to push it. "You do matter, you know," he said. "Don't ever think that you don't."

He was grateful that she didn't shrug him off, but she turned to smile at him sadly. "I know that, but I'm just not anyone's priority. Never needed to be most of my life, honestly, but everything has just thrown me for a loop. However I end up rebuilding my life, starting with this house, it's probably going to end up looking a lot different than the one I had before."

"I'll help," he said. "I mean, help you rebuild."

"What about your own life?" she asked. "You've cut yourself off from the Avengers, and that gave you purpose. What will you do now?"

"I don't know, write and illustrate my own memoirs maybe? Maybe go hole up in a cabin on Walden Lake like Emerson."

"Wouldn't Bucky and Sam come looking for you?" she said with a smile. "Incidentally, aren't they worried about you now?"

"A little," he admitted." But I text them every so often and send them pictures from the trip that Mr. Gordon, who really is on the trip, has been sending me. Sending them to Wanda too. They seem content with that. I guess I'll have to go back to my apartment in Brooklyn a couple of times in between trips, just to keep them off my track, but so far I am good, and I haven't heard from them in about a week. I guess they're still in one piece."

"You probably would've heard if it was otherwise," she said. "I don't know, maybe we need to build you a tiny house around here somewhere. You could write your memoirs there."

He laughed, but then thought how that wasn't such an unpleasant idea. It would probably be easier to write his memoirs in an environment like this rather than a small apartment in Brooklyn.

This time he did throw an arm affectionately around her shoulders and squeezed. "Let's get yours and Cathy's house built first. I think Cathy is driving Ed insane up at the main house."

Now Sharon laughed. "I've heard stories about when they were younger and had to share a bathroom. It's probably a good thing that I haven't killed each other yet."

"I came down here to ask you which site you wanted the construction crew to move the wood from first. I guess we should start with Cathy's site."

"That's probably best," she agreed, turning to look at him. "Mine will get done in due time."

Steve realized that once again she was putting her own desires off in favor of her family's, and it made him realize how often she did that. She had a point, when would she ever be first? He looked down at her and his eyes locked with hers, and he stopped breathing. He had always thought she was pretty, but he never realized just how deeply sky blue her eyes were, or the fact that her blonde hair could get surfer-girl highlights from working chopping up trees for a week. She was beautiful. And not just in looks. She was one of the few people who could honestly make him laugh, her sharp wit usually catching him off guard, usually at inopportune times, like when they were drying the dishes or trying to hoist a log up onto a pile and she would joke about whether or not he was immune to kryptonite. He had laughed his ass off when she had been in charge the other day of waking the children for their first day of school because the adults had to leave early for work, and had done so by blasting reveille from her phone in the middle of the hallway waking the entire house up. He enjoyed listening to her and Cathy get into pun wars, or conspiring with Ed on how to talk Cathy out of getting a goat. She was smart, funny, and loyal. And she deserved someone who wanted her for who she was, not who he had wanted her to be. He realized now that he had been looking for someone, anyone, to replace the hole that Peggy had left in his heart. He understood that no one would ever do that, and it was unfair to expect anyone to live up to someone else.

She had not missed the intense look in his eyes as his eyes a locked with hers. At first, it seemed as if she wanted to retreat again, to guard herself, but she seemed unable to. Almost without thought, they leaned into each other. Steve felt his lips brush hers gently, and then she pressed in and they were kissing for real. Steve tentatively brought his hand up to brush the hair back from her face and cup the back of her head to pull her in. She resisted slightly, and then relaxed, her own hand coming up to twine in his hair. Steve felt an odd sensation, as if he were floating. At first he couldn't imagine that the odd, light feeling was because he was kissing Sharon. He had kissed her before. Several times, and more, though admittedly those kisses had been urgent, full of need, and passionate, but not necessarily affectionate. Even the sex had been more about a physical need than an emotional one, at least on his part. But this kiss was different, hesitant and almost chaste.

It also lit him on fire.

His heart started beating faster, and his breathing sped up. He forced his arms to his side to keep from grabbing her and pulling her to him. It was frustrating to be kissing her and not feel her body pressed against his. But this soft, gentle kiss was winding him up more than any of their previous ones. He suddenly wanted her with a fierceness that surprised even him. His tongue gently flicked hers and she whimpered her own need, which sent a jolt through him, straight to the region south of his belt. But just as he was about to raise his arms to circle around her and pull her close, he felt her stiffen, as if she suddenly realized what they were doing. Suddenly aware that he was overstepping his bounds tremendously, he gently pulled away and leaned back.

She looked flustered, which he admitted surprised him, because he didn't think he had ever seen her look flustered, not even when she got so mad at him before. She looked uncertain, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do or say. But he could tell she wanted him, based on the way her own breathing had sped up and the color had risen in her cheeks, and he felt the sudden urge to pull her to him. Then he suddenly felt chagrined. She had made it perfectly clear that she did not want anything more to do with him romantically. He was here to help her build houses, and to get away and try and find himself after the Avengers. She wasn't interested in him romantically anymore. He was out of line.

"Sorry, I, shouldn't have done that," he said. "I'm not trying to, well, I mean, apparently I need to work on my impulse control."

In an instant, the flustered look left her face, and she was in control again. "Look, Steve, it's obvious we're both still attracted to each other, but it's not, well, it's not the right time. There's a lot of baggage..."

"Yes, I agree," he said quickly. "Maybe we should head up and see if Jeff is back yet? He said he wanted to go over the plans for framing the house in a couple of days."

"Yeah, yeah we should do that," she agreed quickly. Both of them practically jumped to their feet and headed up to the house, mostly in silence.

That night, neither of them slept a wink, pretending to be asleep while the other pretended not to hear tossing and turning from their side of the room. Sharon was in the process of kicking herself in the behind. What was it going to take for her to realize that he had moved on? To him, the relationship ended five years ago. He had made his choice, which had not been her, and he was only back because that choice had sent him home. He was here as a friend, to make up for the turmoil he had caused her. Nothing more. The swift way he had pulled back should have been the most obvious clue. She needed to get a grip. On his side of the room, Steve's thoughts mirrored hers. What the hell had he been thinking grabbing her and kissing her like that? He had hurt her far too badly to think he had the right to even touch her much less kiss her. This was not "Gone With The Wind," and men didn't end fights or emotional turmoil with women by grabbing them and kissing them. These days that could get you arrested for assault. He was lucky she hadn't decked him again. He was just going to have to keep his hands to himself. His mother had taught him better than this, and he should be very grateful she couldn't see him now. She'd have been ashamed of his behavior up to this point. No, from now on, he was going to have to respect Sharon's boundaries and throw himself into the mountain of work her family needed help with. He'd be lucky to walk out of here still calling her a friend. She seemed willing to forgive him this time, but she might not again. And if he spent the entire time around her in a state of semi-hard frustration, well he probably deserved it. He stifled a groan at the sound of her turning over on the futon on the other side of the screen. He buried his face in his pillow and ignored the tightness in his groin and how uncomfortable the creaky old army cot was. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: One more chapter after this one, and what started as a short story that became a novel will finally be done! I've been sick and I will be out of town at a convention until next week, so the final chapter might be at the end of next week some time, but it will come! Thank you to all wo have left kind words of encouragement and who have been enjoying the story!**

0000000

They both spent the next few days avoiding each other, which had the unfortunate effect of only reinforcing to both that the other was done with any kind of romantic relationship and that both had been out of line leaning into the kiss, and that the other was avoiding them because of it. Steve found himself spending a lot of time with Ed, Jeff and the older boys scoping out lumber and insulation at Home Depot, while Sharon spent time with Cathy, Cindy and the younger children picking out interior odds and ends, cabinets and paint colors at various other wholesale stores. But when the time came to start framing Cathy's house, they found themselves thrown back into close contact again, as most of that would be happening during the day and the rest of the family would usually be at work or school. This left Steve and Sharon to handle the process, and the work crews couldn't commit to a regular schedule with all the work elsewhere that needed to be done, so they ended up doing some of the work themselves.

The construction guy showed them what they could, but he and Sharon spent a lot of time watching YouTube videos on how to build houses. Jack swore that you could learn to twirl fire on YouTube if you wanted to, though he had been forbidden by his mother to try it, so it seemed that there really were instructional videos for everything. After a crash course in how to use a table saw, Steve and Sharon, with the intermittent assistance of the construction crew, measured out all of the boards and numbered them, ready for constructing the frame on the cleared out space of grass, and they would have a good old fashion wall racing on Saturday. That morning, everyone slathered on the sunscreen, since it was the final days of summer, and the sun was particularly unmerciful. Cindy had managed to reconnect with their church that the family normally went to and got some assistance from some of the people there, and by 10 o'clock in the morning, had a decent enough crowd ready to start putting the framework of Kathy's house together. Cathy fired up some music, and Ed went and got Megaburgers for everyone, and it was almost a festive atmosphere to the whole matter. Steve had to be careful not to show off his strength too much, he was more than a little worried that someone would recognize him, but since he had let his scruff of a beard kind of grow out, and he had a hat with sunglasses on, amazingly no one seemed to recognize him.

They laid out the framework of the supporting walls on the ground, and used nail guns to secure everything, and then, working together, they raised the walls into position. They took a break for lunch, and then went back to it, so that by the time the sun set that Saturday, they had four walls and the beginning of the roof in place. They would take a break the next day, and the contractor would come on Monday to certify their work, finish framing the roof and sign off on it. Hopefully he wouldn't find any problems. As everyone started to leave to go home, he shook hands with the volunteers who had come to help, talked with Ed a bit about the next few steps, and then helped put away the power tools to head up to the house. Everyone was happy but bone weary. They were all in fairly decent shape, but most were in their 50s, or children, and they weren't used to the work out. Steve was in the process of pulling frozen Gatorades out to pass around to everyone when Hannah complained to her mother that she wasn't feeling very well. Upon further inspection, the adults noticed that all of the kids were sunburned. And then they noticed that everybody had gotten quite a bit of sun that day.

"I don't get it," said Cindy, "we put sunscreen on."

She was peering at Dan's back, as he had taken his shirt off about midafternoon, and while he seemed a little sunburned, it wasn't too bad. Jude had quite a sunburn on his nose, but had left his hat and shirt on and seemed none the worse for wear. In fact most had escaped the worst of the sun, but then Steve remembered that Sharon has been working in a tank top all day. She had gone down to the basement earlier, and he was about to go check on her when Cathy came into the kitchen holding the bottle of sunscreen.

"Did we all use this?" she asked?

"I think so," said Steve, "why?"

"The stuff was expired before the Dusting and has been sitting in the bathroom cabinet for five years since. It's pretty much useless."

"Oh hell," said Ed, taking the bottle and checking the expiration date. "The stuff must be at least eight years old. I didn't know it could expire, but it says here that sunscreen expires every three years. Hell of a way to learn that little tidbit. We slathered it all on, so I'm hoping we got some protection, apparently not as much as we needed"

Cathy was pulling a giant bottle of blue gel out of the refrigerator and started slathering it on the children. When she was done, she handed the bottle to Steve.

"Better take this down to Sharon," she said. "She has to be sunburned herself. It's aloe with lidocaine, we keep it in the fridge and it feels great on sunburns."

Steve took a bottle and a frozen Gatorade and headed down to the basement to check on Sharon. He was a little worried to see her stretched out on her stomach on the futon, her head turned away from him.

"Are you OK?" he asked, coming up to her side.

"I don't feel so good," she whimpered. He turned on the lamp to add to the overhead, and winced when he saw her back. She was still wearing her tank top, but what he could see was an angry red.

"Got a pretty nasty sunburn there," he said. "Cathy gave me some stuff to put on it. Apparently the sunscreen is expired. The kids are all red in the face."

"Well, shit," she grumbled, sitting up. Thankfully her face was not as bad as her back, as she had been wearing a hat, though it was bad enough to probably be uncomfortable.

"Can you reach?" he asked.

"Probably," she said taking the bottle, and then trying to reach behind her back. She winced. It was clear that she was in pain and trying not to show it.

He laid a hand on her arm to stop her. "Tell you what, why don't you go take a cool shower, and I'll help you rub some of that on when you get out."

She looked at him sharply as if trying to gauge his motivations, but apparently she was satisfied with the honest look on his face, so she dropped her gaze and nodded.

"I can barely move my arms," she said.

"You were doing a lot of lifting," he conceded. "I'll go find you some aspirin or something."

He went to seek out Cindy to ask if she had any painkillers for sunburn, while Sharon went to take a quick shower. He met her back in the basement, lying on her futon on her stomach, and he clamped his jaw shut hard. She had taken off her shirt, unable to bear even the weight of it or the sheet across her back. He handed her the bottle of Advil, which Cindy said was best for inflammation as she had given some to everyone else who had a sunburn, and while Sharon washed down a couple with some of the frozen Gatorade that had now turn to a slushy, he gritted his teeth and poured the cooling blue gel into his palm to rub on her back. The shock of the cold gel on her angry red skin caused her to jump a bit, but he gently smoothed his fingers over her skin and felt her began to relax as the lidocaine kicked in. He gently smeared the gel back and forth across her back, not pushing to deeply, but gently massaging it into the worst areas.

She groaned in relief, and he felt her tense muscles begin to relax under his fingertips. He probably could have been done with one pass over her back, but couldn't resist depositing another handful of gel into his palm and smearing it across her back once more. Regardless of the sunburn, her soft skin felt amazing under his fingertips, and he was suddenly reminded of another time when he had felt her skin under his fingers. He swallowed hard and gritted his teeth again, trying to ignore the fact that his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. If she was in no shape or mood before, she certainly would not be now. He knew he should stop immediately, leave her to recover, and retreat behind the screen, but he was having a hard time convincing himself to do so. The feeling of his hand gliding over her soft heated skin, and her whimpers and groans of relief and enjoyment were making it extremely difficult to pull himself away. With tremendous mental effort, he finished up and recapped the bottle.

"There," he choked out gratefully. "Is that a little better?"

"Yeah, thanks," she answered back, her own tone rather choked and gruff. Almost as if he were being chased, he jumped up from the futon and headed up the stairs to put the bottle back in the refrigerator. He ran into Dan looking for it himself. He handed the bottle to the kid.

"Well, looks like you got some sun too kiddo," he said with a smile.

"Do you ever sunburn?" asked Dan.

"Yes, but apparently I heal faster than normal," he said with a shrug. "Looks like it just got your nose though, you and Jack did well to stay covered all day. Your cousin Sharon is a real mess though. Probably best to leave her to her misery downstairs."

"That sucks," said Dan, smearing some gel onto his nose. "But at least she doesn't have to go anywhere tomorrow. Or Monday really."

"Not looking forward to school, are you?" he asked leaning against the counter.

Dan shook his head, looking over his shoulder as if for his mother. "None of us really are. I mean, I know we have to go to school and all, and it sucks that those of us who were Dusted have to go back four weeks before everyone else. But it's just that, half of my friends are like in college now. Only two people I know are going to even still be in the class I was in."

"Yeah," said Steve sympathetically. "I know what that's like, I was sort of thrown for a loop when when all that happened to me with going into the ice and all."

"Yeah, I guess you do know," said the kid thoughtfully. "Sorry, I just kind of forgot for a second. You know, I don't really even think of you like Captain America anymore. You're just like, well, Sharon's friend or something."

Steve laughed. "Well you know, I can stand being known by that moniker."

"Are you guys, like, you know, a thing?" asked Dan.

"Not really," said Steve ruefully. "There's a lot of stuff we can't really tell you about it, and those things have caused problems, and the Dusting and the battle, well there's a lot that happened that we need to get past before anything like that can happen, if it ever does. Right now I'm just good with being her friend."

"Do you like her though?" asked Dan. "I mean I can tell you do. You're always staring at her, sorry if that's rude. And she stares at you."

"She does?" asked Steve, a little surprised. Every time he looked for Sharon, she was looking somewhere else. But he had noticed that Dan Sousa Jr. was every bit as observant as his grandfather supposedly had been. Maybe the kid had seen something. Not that that meant anything could happen between him and Sharon. It only meant that they were still attracted to each other. That was no secret.

Dan shrugged. "Well at least you have a chance either way," he said. "The girl I had a crush on is in college now."

"Ouch," said Steve sympathetically. "That does suck. Did she have a thing for you, before I mean?"

"I think she might have," said Dan. "But who knows with girls, you know? They're like, another species anyway."

Steve laughed a genuine laugh. "Kid, you ain't kidding. And I'll tell you, it's been that way as long as I've been alive, it wasn't any easier 100 years ago."

Dan smiled a real smile, rare for the kid. "I bet you got some stories! Don't know if I want to hear any about grandma though."

Steve shook his head. "To be honest there really wasn't a whole lot to tell. It was a little different during the war, trying to forge relationships. A lot of them didn't survive the war, and not because somebody died either. A lot of things changed in the dating world after World War 2 too. At least from what I've read, I wasn't there for it. I can attest, though, your grandmother was definitely a league by herself, but I also saw a lot of my friends tried to navigate the world of women and come up looking like a dog listening to a high-pitched sound. They mystified us then too, I assure you. I'm sorry about your friend, though. I know things seem pretty rough now. And they will be for a while. But you'll make new friends, maybe even reconnect with some old ones, and they'll be just as lost as you. Just try to give everybody a lot of space to make mistakes, you never know, you might be surprised who you meet. Yeah, the ones who are going to be in your class were either Dusted or were in middle school last time you knew, but that doesn't mean they're not, what's the word you kids use, cool?"

Dan laughed. "Yeah, good use of slang there, man. And you never know, that girl, yeah she's in college now, and it matters now that I'm still only 15, but maybe 10 years from now it won't matter so much. I mean she'll be older, but people don't look at you sideways if you're dating a girl five years older than you if you happen to be 25."

Steve frowned. The kid's mentality seemed familiar, not too different than his own regarding Peggy. Seeing it from this angle made him realize truly how unhealthy it was.

"You know, Dan," he began carefully, "The first person you love, you'll always remember. But that doesn't mean you don't give someone else a chance if things happen that cause it not to work out. I mean, imagine if your grandmother had done that and told your grandfather to take a hike. You wouldn't be standing there, would you? And I never wanted to be the reason Peggy didn't move on with her life. I'm….glad she did."

"Yeah me too," said Dan somewhat ruefully, but h still smiled. "I get it. I do. I'm just out of sorts about it though. Everything's so weird. I guess we're sort of in similar situations?"

"I guess that's one way of looking at it, though I have a strange perspective. Everyone I could potentially date is seventy years younger than me, that makes it difficult to have a conversation sometimes," Steve agreed, taking a bottle of gel and putting it back in the refrigerator and handing Dan a Gatorade.

"Better drink that, I think everybody got dehydrated. I'm going back to check on Sharon. And whatever happens, you know, good luck."

Dan nodded and headed back up to his room while Steve headed back down to check on Sharon. She didn't seem much better, in fact she seemed a little worse. She was whimpering slightly, and shifting on comfortably. She couldn't roll over onto her back, which was her preferred method of sleeping, and he could tell she was uncomfortable.

"You OK?" he asked, coming down to kneel by the side of the futon.

"I don't feel so good," she whimpered. "Kind of nauseous."

Suddenly concerned, he felt her for head. She seemed feverish.

"You might have heat exhaustion," he said evenly. "Hang on a second."

He tore back up the stairs, looking for Cathy. He knew as a fitness instructor, she had some first aid training, though granted that had been some time back. He found her getting Ryan ready for bed, and asked her if she knew the signs of heat exhaustion. She quickly followed him down to the basement and had a quick look at Sharon.

"Well, damn, kid," she said, "you're a real mess."

"Tell me about it," Sharon growled.

Cathy turned to him. "Steve, go get one of the gel packs out of the freezer. I think Cindy keeps a stack of them on the door."

With a nod, he flew back up the steps to find what she had indicated. He snatched one out of the freezer and came back down the steps.

"No need to rush," said Cathy, "she's going to live. She's just dehydrated and overheated, and the sunburn isn't helping. Not much we can do except cool her off and try to keep her comfortable. She should probably stay in bed tomorrow."

Sharon half whimpered, half groaned in protest.

"Does she need to go to urgent care?" asked Steve.

"Not unless she gets worse," said Cathy. "Heat exhaustion is no joke, but the only thing they would do for her there is give her fluids, and I don't think she needs it right now. Granted, I'm not a nurse, Sharon is worse off out of all of us who have been in the sun today. But I saw her drinking water out there, so I don't think it's too bad. Let's just keep an eye on her, besides there's no telling what the condition of emergency rooms and urgent care are right now with everybody overwhelming emergency services. I think we should only go if she really needs it."

Cathy took the gel pack from him and placed it on the back of Sharon's neck. "There, that should help cool her off."

"I'll keep an eye on her," said Steve. Even if it meant he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, he was definitely going to keep an eye on her.

"Just keep the Gatorade and Advil and aloe coming. Maybe we can set up a box fan or something to keep a breeze on her. I'll come back down to check on her later." Cathy headed back upstairs, and Steve went to find Ed to see if he had a fan.

An hour later, Steve had a fan with a gentle breeze blowing on Sharon, had swapped out the first gel ice pack for a second one, had found another bottle of frozen Gatorade and had put the flat screen TV on the wall set to binge watch a popular show on the Home and Garden network where are people rebuilding houses. It seemed appropriate. Besides, his initial attempts to land on the Food Network had only resulted in her turning even more green than she already was. That had prompted him to find an empty wastepaper basket, lined it with a garbage bag, and set it nearby in case she needed to hoark.

"This is humiliating," she grumbled into her pillow, barely watching the show.

"Hey, it happens to everybody, even me "Especially before the Project. I was a real mess back then."

He was purposely keeping his back to her, so he wouldn't have to look at her form laying on the futon, naked from the waist up, even though she was laying on her stomach and her arms were tucked on her sides so as not to expose her breasts. Not that he hadn't already seen them. But it had only taken one quick glimpse back to see how she was doing, right as she had them brushing her hair out of her face, and he had caught the slight curve of her chest as she settled back down, and now he was back to attempting to ignore the tightness in his pants and focus on how the people on the show installed cabinets. He figured that would be useful information in the near future.

He thought about his conversation with Dan, how he had immediately seen how wrong it was for the kid to latch on to the people of his past who had moved on, without even giving his present a chance. How was it that he could see it so clearly in someone else's situation but not his own? And when had he started thinking of Peggy's family as individuals, not some ethereal entity in the back of his mind? When he had first awoken from the ice, he had barely been able to register that Sharon's family was Peggy's. Even though they all resembled her, especially Cathy, in some way he had managed to disconnect that fact in his mind, such that he barely thought about them when he had gone back in time intending to stay with Peggy permanently. But now, after weeks of living with them, he now knew them as the individuals they were. Ed was much like his father, taciturn with a witty sense of humor, always planning and always having a to-do list, his wife Cindy who was always smiling and seemed at her best when she was pushing snacks on people and helping the kids with their homework or projects. Crazy goofy Cathy with her wild ideas, and her good-natured husband Jeff who took it all in stride. And the kids themselves were an endless source of entertainment. Dan was always reading and always ready to discuss or debate any topic, and Jack was always trying to build something or take something apart to see how it worked. Hannah loved every kind of animal on the planet and wanted to be a vet when she grew up, and could often be found with the chickens or the goats, and Ryan was a walking encyclopedia of dinosaur knowledge and would frequently subject anyone in earshot to lengthy lectures about how a velociraptor would win a fight against a honey badger.

At some point, when he stopped looking, they stopped being "Peggy's family" or even "Sharon's family" and were now jut "the family." He enjoyed being around them, was content even, and sometimes he had to remind himself that they weren't his family, that he was only here temporarily. He also realized that for some time now, he had gone entire days without thinking of Peggy at all, something he would occasionally feel guilty about, and if he did, it was usually because something about one of the others reminded him of her. It had taken a while before he could look Cathy in the face, but now he had no trouble with it at all, seeing Cathy as herself and not just a reflection of her mother. But occasionally she would do something so reminiscent of Peggy he had to do a double take. For example, everyone in the family, including Sharon, were prone to using British colloquialisms, such as referring to the bathroom as "the loo," or elevators as "lifts." Sometimes Cathy would call a sweater a "jumper" or Ed would say "laboratory" in the British way instead of the American way, with the emphasis on the second syllable instead of the first, and Steve would be reminded of Peggy in that way. They also had a liking for British food, such as tea and scones, bangers and mash or steak and kidney pie. It took a while before he began to realize that it was perfectly OK to not think of Peggy every day and to relearn how to live in the present. With so much to distract him, this time it was going much easier. In fact, when he got distracted, his thoughts more frequently veered towards Sharon. He looked back at her again.

She seemed to be settling down on the futon, and when he glanced back again, her eyes were closed. He had asked her earlier if she was hungry and she said no, so she had skipped dinner, but he worried that this would just weaken her more. But now that she seemed to be asleep, he wasn't eager to wake her up again. She wouldn't get much sleep tonight as it was. He turned off the TV and lights and headed to his creaky old army cot to try and sleep. He work up two hours later to the sound of her retching. He didn't remember getting out of bed or moving, but suddenly he was by her bedside, kneeling to gather up her hair out of the way and holding the trash can for her. It wasn't too bad, she hadn't eaten much, but he was now doubly worried. Did this count as her "being worse" that Cathy had warned them to watch out for? She relaxed and rolled back from the edge of the futon, whimpering.

"Are you ok?" he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

"Rosebud," she groaned.

"Very funny," he frowned. "You sound worse."

"Actually I feel a little better now," she said, sipping from the Gatorade.

"That didn't sound better. Maybe I should go get Cathy," he said.

"No," she said sitting up a little. "Cathy is in her mid-50s, just spent the entire day outside building a house, she's not a nurse, and there's nothing she can do. She needs her rest. I'll be fine, promise. I just need to sleep enough. It's been a long time since I got a sunburn this bad. I'm usually a lot more careful. Damn expired sunscreen. Won't make that mistake again."

He wanted to argue, maybe even insist that she go to urgent care, but he knew there was really no point. She was actually talking a lot more than she was earlier, despite having just retched. He simply resolved that if she got any worse than this, he would wrap her up in a blanket to keep her from being able to struggle, carry her up to the car and take her himself. He brushed back her hair from her face, rubbing the hairline above her ear and she began to settle back down. When she nodded off back to sleep, he took care of the bucket, and then went back to lying on his cot. Sleepless nights were beginning to become commonplace for him, but there was no more sleep that night as he listen to her breathe, making sure nothing changed.

000000

Sharon spent the next day in bed and Steve spent it between checking on her every hour on the hour and raising plywood for the south walls of Cathy's house with Jeff, Ed and the older boys. Cindy and Cathy took the younger kids shopping for school clothes and came back with giant snow cones covered in condensed milk for everyone, including Sharon's favorite flavor, birthday cake. It was another day before the pain started to subside, though she could finally put a shirt on, and several more days before the sunburn faded into a tan and she could get back to work on the house. Steve breathed a sigh of relief as she improved, not realizing how the worry had caused his shoulders to stay tense. It was a similar sensation he had felt when she had gone in missions with him and he had worried about her safety, despite her expertise. Strange, he realized now, how he had not worried nearly as much about Nat or Wanda, though in many ways Wanda had been far more at risk for injury despite her powers. She didn't have the training Nat and Sharon did that included how to think in the field as well as how to fight. What did it mean that he worried more about Sharon than the others? He hadn't doubted her ability. Had it been something else? He tried to shake off such thoughts and concentrate on the fact that she was better with no permanent damage, and that the house they were all building was really starting to come together now that the walls were up. It would be another two weeks before the roof was on, giving those working on the house a bit of shelter from the elements.

That was also the week that several things happened. First, Cathy came home with a second goat, one the kids named JoJo, as they had named the first one Mojo. Milking them became one of the chores the kids traded off for in the morning, sparking a lot of grumbling about not wanting to live on a farm, though Hannah loved it, and Steve had to admit, there was something relaxing about milking the goats, when they cooperated, so he frequently helped the girl in the morning. Cathy's six chickens, Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe, Thing 1 and Thing 2, were basically grown at this point, but it would be another several months before they started laying eggs, so building a chicken coop became a project for her husband Jeff that Steve also helped with. Jeff mentioned to Steve not even knowing what a chicken coop was three months ago, and now here they were building one. Steve replied that three months ago he didn't know what a tiny house was, and now he had read 20 books, visited 100 websites, and watched as many YouTube videos to learn the process of helping Sharon build one for herself, and this seemed to be their lot in life now, perhaps even more as the ladies thought up new projects, which caused Jeff to laugh.

That week was also the week that Cathy and Jeff's storage pod arrived from their old house, which brought them a sense of relief, but also sadness as they were reminded about the home they had lost and their inability to unpack the pod until their new house was finished. It motivated everyone to double down on the efforts to get it done by mid-fall. While the majority of the family had been focusing on getting Cathy's house built, Ed had been concerning himself with the status of the Carter estate as they brought it back up to speed after five years absence. That week he had finally gotten everything signed off on, updating the electrical and plumbing, getting the yards presentable, everything repainted, and now it finally looked like people were living here again. That was also of the week that Sharon's mother Amanda returned from Africa, having finally got her credentials straight and made it out of quarantine without any communicable diseases.

Amanda Carter had been the wife of Peggy's only nephew, Harrison, who had been named after Peggy's father. When Sharon returned from the airport after picking her mother up, Steve went down to help them with any items, and was struck by how much Sharon resembled her mother, though Ed had frequently told him she did, as Sharon bore little to no resemblance to the Carter side of her family. Steve was a little nervous about meeting her, for he didn't even realize how much he had wanted the approval of one of Sharon's parents, funny since they weren't an item anyway, but he had no idea how much Amanda Carter would know about his history with her daughter. Sharon had stressed to him that she really didn't tell her mother much about her work or about her background with him, having only mentioned who he was, and that he was retiring from the Avengers and taking the time to help them at the estate, and that no one was to mention that he was there. Amanda knew about his background with the family, of course. But thankfully, she did not seem too starstruck when Sharon introduced them as she got out of the car, smiling a smile much like her daughter's, and shaking his hand, commenting that it was nice to meet him and he returned the greeting.

The rest of the family greeted her enthusiastically, once again the Dusting having given them all perspective on the value of family and what a privilege it was for all of them to be together at once. Everyone al together at once was limited even Christmas. Amanda had married into the family, not having much of a family of her own, so she considered the Carter/Sousas her family. But Steve could tell her emotional attachment to them was not as deep as the one that Sharon seemed to be forming with her cousins, having lived with them for several weeks now. And because Amanda frequently took herself to various parts in the world doing missionary and aid work, it was fairly clear that that was where her mind was, Steve remembered how close he had been with his mother before she had died, and regretted that Sharon did not seem to have the same relationship with her own mother. It was clear that the two loved each other, but they had very little in common beyond their looks. Just as Cathy was the image of her mother, with similar personality quirks, but a very different person overall, so Sharon was very similar to her mother in appearance and mannerisms, but clearly very different. Amanda was only staying for a few days, and those evenings at dinner she frequently regaled everyone with stories of her work on other continents, commenting that she would soon be going to Cambodia to help facilitate the building of a school and community center in a small village. Steve could tell that Sharon was proud of her mother's work, but could also see the sadness in her eyes when it was evident that Amanda would be leaving again shortly, leaving her behind. Sharon herself didn't really have much to do with herself in the near future beyond building houses, and also had to endure her mother's evident relief that she was no longer in intelligence more, despite the fact that she loved it.

Amanda stayed for a month, the longest she stayed in quite a while according to Sharon. During that time, Steve rarely had a chance to talk to her one on one, as she was often engaged with catching up with the family and seeing about the few belongings that she had left behind at the main house when she had gone off on her charity missions after Sharon's father's death. To their credit, she and Sharon spent a lot of time together catching up, going to do things away from the house, like seeing movies or a spa day in town. Steve hoped that these excursions included talking to each other in a way that a mother and daughter should talk to each other after both had experienced death and resurrection. Amanda even took to helping them build Cathy's house, as it seemed that she had done a few similar projects in the developing nations where she volunteered. Sharon learned a few things about her mother, namely that she knew how to set bracer joints and use automatic staple guns to affix Tyvek covering to walls. And apparently she knew how to float sheet rock. Steve almost laughed at the incredulous expression on Sharon's face watching her mother handle the sheet rock floating spatula, but Sharon recovered nicely and smiled at the sight. The day before Amanda was set to depart once again, though, she found Steve down by the goat enclosure.

He was milking Mojo. Or was it JoJo? He wasn't sure, he only knew that Hannah had overslept that morning and had not been able to tend to the animals as she usually did, so he offered to do it for her. If anyone had asked him back in his youth growing up in Brooklyn during the Depression whether or not some day he would be 105-year-old man milking a goat, he would have laughed his ass off. And apparently his hands weren't as easy as Hannah's, because the goat kept looking back at him reproachfully, as if to say "Dude, really, is that the best you can do? You're doing it wrong." Not only was he a 105-year-old man milking a goat, he was actually offended by the goat's reproachfulness. Then he heard Amanda's footsteps approaching, and she came into view around the bend into the work area of Cathy's house site. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, viewing the structure that now really did look like a house, waiting for its outer covering and innards to be finished.

"Wasn't the electrician supposed to come and do the rest of the wiring today?" she asked.

Steve looked up. "Later today, apparently he got delayed. That happens a lot with the contractors, they're really overworked."

"Yes, I suppose they are," said Amanda. "At least in this country everyone is better off. Where I'm going, most of the world has forgotten that the people even exist. They're not getting much."

Steve looked up again, continuing to milk the goat. "Can I ask, what made you decide to go on the tours that you do? Is it something you always wanted to do, or something you wanted to do later?"

Amanda looked at him with a knowing gaze, very reminiscent of her daughter, and then smiled almost sadly and sat down nearby.

"You must think pretty ill of me, taking off and leaving my daughter with Peggy and Daniel when she needed me most."

"Oh no," said Steve quickly. "That's not what I meant. I.."

Amanda waved her hand. "I know it's not what you meant, but you wouldn't be the first if you did. I know it's what Sharon thinks. In answer to your question, the truth is I've always wanted to do this work. You see, I grew up fairly privileged. My family was quite wealthy, and when my parents passed away, I inherited all of it. Sharon's father, coming from the Carters, well they're pretty comfortable themselves. Neither one of us ever wanted for anything, in fact our lives were pretty luxurious compared to some other peoples. And that didn't stop Harry from wanting to join the military like his father and serve his country. I noticed that runs in the Carter family. For me, I didn't think much of it growing up, I just assumed everyone was as comfortable as I was. I had my own room, toys, I never wondered where my next meal was coming from. I wasn't spoiled exactly, but there wasn't much in the world that I wanted for."

"There's nothing wrong with that," said Steve, "though I don't get exactly where you're going with it."

"You grew up during the Depression," said Amanda. "Surely there were times when you saw that some families were better off than others? You may even have seen someone starve to death because they couldn't afford food. Did you ever go hungry?"

Steve was surprised. Not many people wanted to talk to him about this time in his life, most preferred to hear about his glorious days in World War 2 or see him in the present with present society, a society where they were safeguards against people actually starving to death. But she was right. He had seen such things. And so he nodded.

"Not that I recall, though it wasn't great food," he said carefully. "My mother was a nurse, and while she didn't make a lot of money, there was always some food left over from the hospital that she was able to bring home. I never went hungry, though she did a few times, so I wouldn't. I didn't know this until later of course. And yes, I did see people starve to death."

"I didn't know such things could happen," said Amanda. "I didn't even know that people I knew might be struggling. That is, until I was seven years old, and went for a sleepover at a friend's house. She was my best friend in school, we hung out together, and I thought we were exactly alike. I was so unobservant that I didn't realize that her clothes were secondhand, sometimes third-hand, and that her lunchbox didn't always have quite enough as mine did. I didn't mind giving her my leftovers, I always thought she just had a big appetite. I never realized that there were some mornings when she didn't get breakfast. School lunch programs weren't a thing back then. Sometimes all she had for lunch were peanut butter sandwiches and carrot sticks, every single day for weeks. I always thought she just like peanut butter. It didn't occur to me that there was nothing else for her to eat. Her mom didn't work, and her father was always between jobs. One night I went to spend the night at their house, and I was shocked at how small it was, how it needed so many repairs, though it was clean, because her mother tried to take some pride in their home in any way that she could. We had pizza that night, apparently it was a real treat in that house, but I noticed that her parents didn't eat any of it. They claimed they weren't hungry, and let us have it all, but it wasn't until later that I realized that it must have cost them to get that pizza for the two of us so that their daughter and her friend could have some dinner and that I wouldn't realize how bad off they were. The next year, her father got a job somewhere else and they moved away. I was pretty sad about it, and then later once I understood, I felt terrible about it. Why did I have so much, and they had so little? It wasn't any failing on their part. They were good people, her father worked hard when he could find work. It didn't make any sense. So I was determined that when I grew up, I would help those less fortunate than myself."

Steve smiled. In this way, he understood that Sharon was a lot like her mother after all, with the same kinds of goals and desires. They just manifested differently.

"I think I understand that," he said softly. "My own motivations for volunteering for the Project weren't so different."

Amanda nodded, but frowned. I know you understand what I've said so far, but you might not understand the rest. The truth was, I never thought I would ever get married. I thought I would spend the rest of my life doing what I do now, because I knew with a family I wouldn't be able to. Not unless I brought them with me and some of these places are dangerous. But then I met Harry, and I won't lie, I was crazy in love with him and I still am. Marrying a soldier who has to move around for his own career virtually guarantees that I wouldn't be able to pursue my own. I thought maybe I could do something from the States, maybe start a foundation or something. I never planned on kids, not that I didn't want them. But when Sharon was born, I knew a lot of what I wanted to do had to be placed on hold. Then Harry died. And I was devastated. Sharon is right to think that I ran away. I did. And I hope she forgives me someday for it. But I told myself that she was old enough to not need me as much as I know now that she did. She was always closer to Peggy than me anyway. I think in some ways I was jealous of the relationship. They were so much alike, in fact Sharon scared me a little. I didn't understand her, or her intensity. Peggy kind of scared me a little bit too. She was just so...powerful. Present. I'm sorry to say that it's my fault that I didn't pursue a relationship with my own daughter, be there for her when I know she needed me. I'll regret that to the day that I die. I mean really die, not be Dusted away. But the Dusting made me realize that I'm very lucky to have a second chance."

Steve was quiet for a moment, then said carefully, "If you could go back in time, change at all, would you?"

Amanda looked surprised, as if considering whether or not his question was a rhetorical one, or if he was actually suggesting that such a thing could be possible. Then her eyes cleared, and she shook her head slowly. "No I wouldn't. Making mistakes and having regrets in your life is part of the process of becoming who you are today. If I had stayed, Sharon would be a very different person. And I'm not sure that's such a good thing. Yes, I discouraged her from enlisting in S.H.I.E.L.D. I won't lie, I was afraid for her safety, I would have discouraged her from joining the military or police force for the same reason. I just want my daughter safe. I figure she probably resents me for that too. But the truth is, I'm proud of her she is. I wouldn't want her any other way. And the choices I've made, the choices she's made, have brought us to where we are. To go back in time and change that would be the equivalent of me saying that I don't accept her for who she is today and the life she's made for herself. And that's not right."

Steve nodded, understanding.

Then Amanda looked at him, with a half-smile quirking her lips. And for a brief moment, Steve felt a thrill of fear that she was going to ask him if he would go back in time and change things, and he would be faced with either telling the truth, which was his gut reaction, or having to lie to Sharon's mother.

But instead, she asked, "So what do you think about her?"

Steve felt himself smiling. "That you are even asking shows that you probably already know the answer."

"Oh I do," she agreed. "But I'm not entirely sure you know. And for what it's worth, I don't think she does either. But I can't help but be curious, when I come back in six months from now, what will I find?"

"Hopefully two houses built, and your daughter into some sort of new daily thing to do with herself that makes her as happy as being an intelligence officer did," he said.

"Will you be here too?" asked Amanda.

Steve had been expecting a lot of possible hard questions, but amazingly he had not prepared for that simple one. Would he still be here in six months? Could he go back to his apartment in Brooklyn and pretend to be an old man, but apart from Sharon and the family? If the answer to Amanda's question was no, he was going to have to be prepared for a life lonelier than the one he had when he first woke up from the ice. But if the answer was yes, he was going to have to make up his mind about what he intended to be to Sharon and everyone who mattered to her. More importantly, did they want him to stay? He felt a certain pang as he imagined that their answer was no, that they did not want him to stay permanently. That would hurt. It hit him with a sudden rush how much he did suddenly want to stay.

"I hope so," he replied. "I haven't often been happy in various places since I woke up, but I've been happy here."

"Because of Sharon?" she asked.

"Because of everyone, but yes, because of Sharon," he answered. "She understands, if that makes any sense."

"It does," Amanda answered.

"You're not upset about it?" he asked. "I mean, given my history with the family?"

"I only knew Peggy in passing," Amanda admitted. "And while logically I know you're the one she dated back in World War II, that you're Captain America, what I see in front of me is a guy in his mid-30s who likes my daughter who had a previous relationship that ended before he was ready. And that would actually make you not very different from a lot of guys out there Sharon could have potentially ended up with. The only thing I care about is that you treat her right, don't hurt her, don't compare her to anyone, love her for who she is. And try not to get her killed. I would appreciate that."

To his surprise, Steve laughed. "I can promise pretty much everything you asked, but I don't know that I can promise to keep her out of trouble. She's pretty good at finding that herself."

Amanda smiled. "If we had more time, I would tell you stories about when she was a kid and the numerous ER visits. But those may have to wait for my next trip."

"In that case, I will look forward to hearing them," said Steve, standing up with the bucket of goat milk to bring to the small pasteurizing unit that Jeff had set up in the garage of the main house. He walked back with Amanda to the main house, finding Sharon on the front porch coming out to look for them and seeming surprised to see them together. Amanda gave her a hug and headed off to finish packing to leave the next day.

"Please tell me my mom wasn't giving you the 'what are your intentions with my daughter' speech?" she asked.

"Something of that nature," he admitted heading to the garage to pour the milk into the pasteurizer. "But don't worry, she was nice about it."

Sharon only smiled.

Amanda left the next day to head out to her next assignment, with many hugs and some tears, even a hug for Steve. Later that night, Sharon seemed somewhat subdued, noticeably missing her mother and the kitchen seemed a little quieter without Amanda's stories to fill up the time. Steve managed to distract Sharon by asking her if she wanted to go a few sparring grounds in the backyard, something the rest of the family thought would be wonderful entertainment. It seemed to work, as they both had enough control to throw some pretty spectacular moves at each other without causing any damage. After several rounds, Sharon, panting, smiled and seemed more relaxed. He made a mental note to make this more of a regular thing, for clearly her mood lifted when she was still honing her agent skills.

Later that night, Steve was lying on the rickety army cot, trying to think of ways he could cheer her up, when suddenly the old canvas of the cot directly beneath his butt split and he fell straight through the frame onto the floor.

"Ow!" he yelled, surprised, and tried to extricate himself from the now ruined framework of the cot and finding it far more difficult than he thought it was going to be. Sharon suddenly appeared from around the screen, her hair all wild and her eyes sleepy, having sprung out of bed thinking there was danger. She must be pretty fast, he hadn't even noticed the light coming on.

"What the hell happened?" she asked.

He managed to pull himself out of the tangle of canvas and cot frame onto his hands and knees and finally stood up next to her surveying the damage.

"Looks like the cot is a goner," he said.

She brushed her messy hair back out of her face. "Well, it was several decades old and had been up in the attic. I guess we should be surprised it lasted this long."

Steve sighed and pulled the blankets and pillow from the wreckage. "I'll go sleep on the sofa."

"Uh, that might be difficult," she said. "Remember, Cindy steam cleaned all the furniture this evening, right before she went to bed. She figured to let it dry overnight and most of tomorrow with everybody at work and school. She didn't think anybody would be sleeping on it. It's probably still wet."

Steve's shoulders slumped. "Floor it is then."

He started moving the cot wreckage out of the way to spread out the blankets on the cold concrete floor. Then he felt her hand on his arm.

"The futon is big enough for both of us," she said. "We can get you another cot or an air mattress or something tomorrow."

"Sharon, uh..." he stammered.

"Problem?" she asked.

It was 1 o'clock in the morning and Steve's brain was still not fully awake, and still trying to recover from the adrenaline surge of the incident that had woken him up. His mind was trying to reconcile that what she was offering was nothing romantic, but simply a practical solution offered to a friend she trusted to keep his hands to himself. Besides, they had slept in the same bed before.

Yeah, after having sex.

He viciously and firmly banished the blooming memory from his sleep-adled mind for the predictable physical reaction could follow it. Although he was already a little too late, he was already feeling anticipatory stirrings. But from a logical standpoint, it made sense. Sleep on the futon with her tonight, get a new cot tomorrow. Why was this so hard?

Because he knew it wouldn't be just anything to him. Maybe she was determined to keep distance between them, but he was rapidly finding it more difficult to do himself. He should turn her down and insist on sleeping on the floor. But he already knew he would not. He grabbed up his pillow and let her pull him towards the futon. She climbed in first, and then, in the last ditch effort to preserve some sort of formality between them, telling himself that he was respecting her boundaries, he crawled on top of the covers, keeping a barrier between them, and covered himself with his own blanket. She seemed satisfied, and settled into sleep, turning off the lamp bidding him good night. He answered with his own good night, and turned away from her, trying to quell the growing erection that was no doubt going to keep him up the rest of the night. He expected his longing and frustration to keep him up well until dawn, so he was rather surprised to find that after some time, his eyes closed easily as he relaxed next to her, and when he opened them again, it was indeed sunrise, and at some point during the night they had spooned around each other, and were comfortably nestled in each other's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I'm so sorry about how long it's taken to get this final chapter done! Life and work and all, but it's finally here. I want to thank everyone who read this story and took the time to drop me a line, both those who enjoyed the story and those who didn't, since feedback makes me a better writer. I hope everyone has enjoyed this one and my other stories, and I do feel like there's some other Staron stories in my head waiting to get out. Hopefully I'll get them written soon. For now, here's the final part and I hope everyone has enjoyed it**.

000000000

Chapter 7

Steve never actually did get a new cot. After joining her on the futon, both of them sleeping on it became a normal thing, though nothing physical happened between them. Truthfully, he had intended to go to the sporting goods store the very next day and get something to sleep on, not wanting to impose, but the crew who came to lay the brick siding on Cathy's house arrived early, and with the kids going to school and all of the adults off either at work or running errands, including Sharon, that left Steve to handle the logistics of helping the crew and getting the work done. The same thing pretty much happened the next several days, as the crew had managed to squeeze in their job this particular week in between two other major jobs they were doing, so from sunup to sundown, Steve was pretty much occupied for the next seven days until Cathy's house was pretty much finished on the outside and the door secured, leaving only the interior left to do.

Those seven nights of sleeping on the mattress next to Sharon, eventually ending up wrapped up in each other's arms made the end of those days pure bliss for him. And she never mentioned him getting another cot. But he had no idea how long that would have gone on, if he hadn't gotten the frantic text from Wanda wanting to know where he was. Apparently she had dropped by unexpected at his Brooklyn apartment and found him gone, with the neighbors not knowing where he was, and had come back several days later also to find him gone. Not wanting to give himself away just yet, he had texted her back that he was visiting some historic areas around Washington DC and would be returning again shortly, that she was welcome to visit when he got back. She seemed mollified, but that left Steve figuring he should probably regularly return to his apartment every so often to keep his friends off his trail and make himself known around the neighborhood should they ask. So after Cathy's house was finished on the outside, he told the Sousa/Carters that he was returning to Brooklyn for two weeks and would be back shortly. He was surprised at the mumbles of disappointment, for it seemed they would genuinely miss him. That made him feel both good and bad. He glanced over at Sharon who was staring at her plate, and only looked up to meet his gaze to nod a little bit in understanding, and then go back to moving her food around on her plate. That night, as they settled into sleep, he promised that he would be back to help her get started on her own house. She replied that she was not mad at him for having to take care of his own business, that he had pretty much balanced out any hardship he had caused her or her family with the efforts he had put in these last few months, that if he wanted to stay in Brooklyn, she would understand.

"Do you want me to stay away?" he asked.

"No, I don't," she said. "I want you to come back. I just want you to know that I'm not compelling you to or trying to guilt trip you into anything."

"You're not," he assured her. "And I'll stay here as long as you and the family want me to stay. I like it here. I like building the houses. I'd like being helpful."

She only smiled and snuggled closer drifting off to sleep.

The next morning he said goodbye to everyone, and drove through to New York, walking into his apartment feeling how deserted it felt. It definitely felt like nobody had lived here for a while, and he set about making it livable again. He spent the next several days visiting nearby stores and establishments, learning names and making himself known, before inviting Wanda back for a visit, and she came promptly. She visited for several hours, telling him that upon his suggestion, she had contacted Shuri who indeed confirmed that she had a backup of Vision and could set about reconstructing him.

The young woman's happiness and hopeful expression made Steve both smile and yet feel a pang of loneliness. He hoped with all his might that she could get Vision back, for he could certainly sympathize with what it meant to lose someone you love. He gave Wanda a hug and wished her luck, advising her that he was going on another old folk's tour of the west coast soon, to not freak out if he was not at home, but to text anytime. She agreed, and once she was gone, Steve set about booking himself on such a tour to appear legit. Then, with a smile, he made several other phone calls. He had been planning for some time to surprise Sharon with some sort of surprise, but it had taken some in depth research to get all the details straight, given how big it was, and it all had to be done on his phone, which he was still not 100% comfortable with.

After getting his identity in Brooklyn squared away, communicating with the Avengers in his regular check in, he drove back to Virginia in the middle of the night to surprise the family the next morning by walking into the kitchen at breakfast time to their surprised smiles and impromptu hugs. He had expected that Sharon would be there for him to reveal his surprise, but he learned she had been called into the Beltway to a meeting at the CIA to get her final statement about her actions before she disappeared for years previously, and to obtain her official pardon clearing her name. She would be gone all day. In hindsight, Steve realized this was a perfect arrangement. When the surprise arrived later with everyone at work and school, he knew that no one would be there to see it and blab.

He was there to open the back gate, direct it where it needed to go, and then intercept Sharon as she arrived back home and headed for the main house.

He came bounding up the walkway, catching her by surprise, and her smile at seeing his return brought him up short and he caught his breath. Then he shook himself and picked her up in a hug. She squeaked in surprise, but then laughed and he settled her back down.

"Everything OK in New York?" she asked.

"All taken care of," he said. "And I know you probably want to go inside and settle down for a bit, but before you do, there's something I have to show you. And no it can't wait until later."

Sharon stifled a sigh. She really was tired, it had been a long day, but the little boy eagerness on his face was impossible to resist, and he did not often adopt such a giddy demeanor. Clearly he was up to something, and she was curious as to what had gotten him so excited. So she followed him, headed towards the path leading to her side of the property, where her tiny house slab has been poured. She had only gone down there periodically to spray the slab for with weed killer to keep it from becoming overgrown, since they had really not had a chance to start on her house by concentrating on Cathy's. Which was why, when she came down the path and saw what was sitting on the slab, she dropped the bag she was carrying and her jaw fell to her chest.

"Like it?" he asked with a nervous smile.

Sharon was still too thunderstruck to speak. There, sitting on her slab, was a large 18-wheeler trailer chassis. And in stacks nearby were several beams of wood, the type they had used to frame Cathy's house. She had not even looked into the structures that would form the framework of her house, so focused had she been on her cousin's construction. She had done some preliminary investigation with Steve, and had told him the sort she would prefer, since tiny houses could be either stationary or mobile, and she wanted one that could be towed somewhere if she ever had to move it. She had thought about looking more into it after Cathy's house was finished, but it seemed that Steve had been ahead of her. When had this been delivered? It wasn't here a few days ago.

"Did you do this?" She asked. "When?"

"I ordered it a few weeks ago, and it was delivered this morning," he said. "I wanted to surprise you. I know you've wanted to get started on your own house. And, well, I could have bought you flowers, I figured this was more permanent."

She was still staring at the chassis sitting on the slab, in fact she stared for so long not saying a word, that Steve began to get a little uncomfortable. Had he messed up royally again? He wasn't sure how, but the self-doubt started to sink into his mind as he wondered if he had once again caused an irreparable rift between him and Sharon.

"Did, uh, did I do something wrong? Again I mean? Because I was trying to..."

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence and she turned and jumped into his arms, tears squeezing out of her eyes. She hugged him tight, and he could feel her shaking a little.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me," she said, her voice wavering a little.

"Seriously?" He said, trying to lighten the mood a little. "A truck frame? Well if you'll react this way for a chassis, maybe I should get you a Mack truck cab next."

She laughed, but didn't let go of him, continuing to hug him. He hugged her gently back, and lifted her gently off her feet. They hugged for a long time, and Steve admitted this was a really nice feeling. Once he realized he had not messed up again, he was now basking in her happiness.

"This must have cost a fortune," she said sliding down and turning back to look at the foundation.

He shrugged. "The army came through with my 80 years of backpay several years ago. It was either spend it on this or another motorcycle I don't need. And of course I make regular donations to the VA. And, well, Tony left me some. So I had it to spend, don't worry about it."

She was still shaking her head in disbelief, though smiling. "It's wonderful, Steve, thank you. Does anyone else know yet?"

"No," he said, "I wanted to show you first."

"Oh, I've got to tell them!" She grabbed his hand and yanked him back up the walkway to tell everyone else, which of course required another trek back down to her slab so everyone could see it. As the kids were climbing all over it, Ed gave him a knowing look and a slight smile, but Cathy was positively smirking. He just shrugged at her, as if to say 'well I guess the way to a woman's heart is with a tiny house foundation.' Later that night, at dinner, they reworked the construction schedule to allow for them to finish Cathy's house while starting Sharon's. She had already picked out the design she wanted, so it was just a matter of getting the contractor to verify the blueprints and frame up the house. It should go a lot faster than Cathy's, since it was a much smaller building and they already had practice in framing and roofing.

It wasn't until after he had showered and headed back down to the basement that he even remembered that he had intended to get another cot to sleep on, and forgot again when he found Sharon sifting through YouTube videos on tiny house construction. He joined her on the futon and they watched construction videos until they both fell asleep.

Sharon woke up a few hours later, suddenly wide-awake, not even sleepy or groggy from having previously been in a deep slumber. Steve was asleep next to her, weird for him, especially since he seem to be quite out of it. He normally was a very light sleeper, and if she started awake, he usually did too. But he seemed almost drunk, and were it not for the fact that he was breathing normally, she would wonder if he was in a coma. What had awoken her? She sat up, half expecting Steve to wake up and ask her what was wrong, but he didn't. She looked around nervously, feeling as if something out of the ordinary was happening, although the feeling of nervousness actually started to dissipate as she took in her surroundings. She was in the basement, wrapped in her favorite down blanket, on the comfortable futon, with the man she loved asleep next to her.

Loved?

With a sudden lurch, she looked down at him, fast asleep and relaxed, his face not holding the usual undercurrent of strain she had grown used to seeing on him. She studied the lines of his face, the arch of his eyebrows, the angle of his nose and the way his honey blonde hair fell across his eyes. He was beautiful. Painfully so. She felt her heart do that flip-flop she had always heard of in romance movies and novels, but had never actually felt herself. She had always chalked it up to some sort of literary notion, foolishness really. Having never experienced it herself, she had always thought women who had gushed about the men they had loved as being rather silly with all that flowery stuff, talking about hearts doing flip flops. But now, looking down at him, remembering all of the work he had put into helping her family, and his incredible gift of the foundation of her permanent home, the significance of what it meant to her and knowing that he knew how important it was to her to have a place to truly call home, she filled tears spring to her eyes as the emotion overwhelmed her. She loved this man.

The pain of his turning his back on her to go back to her aunt also hit her in full force, but oddly not as strong as it had before. Maybe it was because she knew that he felt something for her too, maybe not love, but that he was truly sorry for having hurt her feelings, and he was also truly trying to make it better. And he had. Furthermore, her family loved him. The kids loved playing with him, the adults loved talking with and spending time with him. He fit in their family more comfortably than either of them had ever expected. And what did that mean now? Probably that everyone would be sad to see him return to Brooklyn permanently once the houses were done.

Return to Brooklyn? Leave?

The thought slammed into her full force and suddenly her heart cramped in pain as it had that terrible night when he had told her his story. He was going to leave. He cared about her, maybe even loved her in a way, but he couldn't be IN love with her, not as she now knew she was with him. He wouldn't leave her again if he was. Peggy was the one he loved, would die loving. She would never be enough. She felt a sob choke out of her, and she frantically tried to shove it down. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up and ask why she was crying, only to have to explain that she was blubbering like a soap opera star because she was in love with him and he was never going to feel the same. That would only confirm in his mind that she truly was the inferior choice in a potential significant other. She was disgusted with herself.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, kiddo," came the soft voice behind her, warm and familiar.

Her head snapped around, her eyes focusing on the middle of the room, looking for the owner of the voice. It was a sound she had not heard in twenty years, not since she was a child. She must be imagining things, for there was no way that voice could be speaking now. Then her searching eyes found what she was looking for. He was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed casually, draped in shadow but with an odd, unearthly glow about him. She expected him to be translucent like any ghost, but he seemed as solid and real as she was. She stopped breathing, feeling a rush of disbelief, then fear, for she knew the man to be long dead, but then, an odd sense of peace. He shoved off from the wall and walked...walked!...towards her. He came to the middle of the floor into a patch of full moonlight, clearly visible now, standing on two good legs, his customary crutch and limp nowhere to be seen. His dark brown hair swept back from his serious but friendly eyes, slicked back in the 1950s style. He was dressed in his work suit but with no jacket, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to the elbow. His mouth quirked up in an indulgent smile, his angular face so similar to his grandson's who was named for him.

Daniel Sousa looked as young and hale as the day he had met Peggy Carter at the SSR.

"Uhhh...Uncle Dan?" she breathed in disbelief, her voice unnaturally high. He just smiled. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You needed me."

"I did?" she was confused, and then suddenly she looked down at Steve, wondering if she should wake him up to confirm what she was seeing.

"Oh don't worry about him," Daniel waved at her. "He's not going to wake up. Not until I'm gone."

She looked back at Daniel, who turned and walked easily to a corner where an old desk chair sat, grabbed it and dragged it back into the patch of moonlight that fell in the center of the room, turned it and straddled it, sitting backwards in it and resting his elbows on the back, something he would not have been easily able to do in life with his prosthetic leg. She swung her legs from under the covers and was about to stand up when he held up a hand.

"Best stay in bed. That concrete floor's cold," he said.

She stayed put and continued to stare at her long deceased uncle.

"Not expecting me were you?" he asked.

"Not expecting anyone I've buried," she said. "Is Peggy here too?"

"No," he said turning serious. "It's me you needed to talk to you this time, so here I am. She's already told you everything you ever needed to hear from her."

"What do I need to talk to you about that is so important you've risen from the dead?" she asked, hoping she wasn't pissing him off. Pissing off a ghost had not been high on her list of things to do this evening. Although granted her previous emotional turmoil that had been overwhelming her only a few moments before was now blessedly forgotten.

Daniel laughed. "You seem to be facing a crisis of faith, similar to one I faced myself with your aunt. Which is why I was sent. She says hello by the way, and she loves you."

Sharon felt herself smiling. That sounded like Peggy. "So she's, uh, you two are...together in the afterlife?"

"Something like that," he said. "Not quite how the human mind imagines it, but close enough."

Sharon shook her head, putting a hand to her forehead. Yesterday she would have said she wasn't even sure she believed in an afterlife, and now here she was talking to the spirit of her dead great uncle. Quickly she pinched herself to make sure she was truly awake. It hurt.

"You're not dreaming, Share," he said.

"Ok," she said with a slump, "so I'm awake. And Peggy sent you. So what's up?"

"Peggy didn't exactly send me. But that's neither here nor there," he said. "I'm here because you're at an important junction and you need a boost in the right direction."

"And that direction would be what?" she asked.

Daniel pointed to a still sleeping Steve. "He looks a lot better without the goofy fake mustache."

She glanced down at him. "You mean Steve? What about him?"

"You love him," Daniel said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Sharon said, figuring it was pointless to deny it. "I'm not sure what difference it makes or why it's brought you from the pearly gates."

"Actually they're more like moonstone, very shiny," he quipped.

She stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking, and when he smiled, she snorted and smiled back. Then his expression turned serious.

"So you're in love with a man, and you think you'll never be good enough because of who he's loved in his past, you're torturing yourself over it and you're miserable and thinking it'd be best to end everything and try and pretend you don't love him, does that about summit up?" He asked.

Her eyes widened and surprise. "You're a mind reader then?"

"Don't have to be," he said. "It's pretty obvious. Have you considered talking to him about it?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Few things are more pathetic than a woman who fawns all over a man who doesn't return the feeling. I'm already somewhere down the totem pole in his mind. The last thing I need is to give him a reason to bump me down further."

"That's what you think he thinks of you?" asked Daniel. "Again, I ask, why not simply ask him?"

Sharon's shoulders slumped. "You're asking me to do one of the few things I have left to keep my pride. And before you say anything, yes I know pride won't serve me much when I am 90 years old and alone."

"No, I get it," he said. "You don't want to get hurt. I didn't either. It took no small amount of gumption to admit to Peggy how I felt about her, especially when I had people tell me to my face that she would never go for a guy with an aluminum crutch after a guy with red white and blue stars and stripes."

Sharon's head snapped up. "What goddamn fool told you that?"

"Someone who ended up dying less than 24 hours later because of his own dumb mistakes, may he rest in peace," said Daniel. "But he gave voice to my deepest insecurity. Never mind Peggy, no woman at all would want me with my missing leg. The implication being that I should consider myself lucky that the spiritual widow of Captain America was even talking to me, much less considering me romantically. That I was a fool to even think about her in that way. She was untouchable, powerful and magnificent, even to the ones who pretended that she was just an interloping woman in the office, there only as a symbol and good only for making the coffee. They knew she came by her reputation honestly. In the beginning, the best I could hope for was to be her friend and colleague. So that's what I tried to be."

"But you ended up together anyway," said Sharon.

"Yeah, we did," he said with a soft smile. "After a lot of soul-searching on both of our parts. She had to come to terms with losing Steve, and truly put him away emotionally. I had to come to terms with the idea that I was not less of a man because of my injury, that I could actually be desirable to anyone, especially Peggy. We didn't have the VA or support groups back then, but we certainly could have used them. We had very subtle ideas about gender roles back then, and neither me nor Peggy completely fit into those roles. We had to be set as who we were before we could be anything to each other. But we managed to get there. Over time."

"And you never worried that you were playing second fiddle to Captain America during all that time?" she asked. "I didn't understand it when I was a kid, but I wish I could have asked you when you were still with us."

"I wouldn't have answered," said Daniel. "You're right, you were too young to understand. But that's why am here now. Because the answer to that question is: every day. I worried about it every day. Well, at least at first. Maybe I didn't worry about it every day as time went on. And I wouldn't necessarily say I 'worried.' I thought about it. And the thing is, she never did anything or said anything to ever make me feel second place. She worked pretty hard actually to show me that she loved me in my own right. There was no doubt that I loved her. And it was her idea to have kids. It's pretty hard to consider yourself second-place when she has your baby. Twice. But I won't lie, there was a lot of insecurity at first. But I learned to make peace with it, for her sake if not my own. We wouldn't have lasted otherwise."

Sharon smiled, but then said, "They never found Steve's body, and he was presumed dead but never confirmed. Obviously. You never worried that one day he would just show up, having survived that crash, or that Peggy would choose him over you if he did?"

"To be honest, I never really even thought about that," said Daniel. "Peggy was certain he was dead, the entire world was certain, so I never really questioned if he was alive or not. I knew he wasn't coming back. I did sometimes wonder that she would choose some other guy over me, that my lost limb would somehow disgust her or become too much of a problem to handle as I got older. Obviously she never thought that way. A lot of what you are saying and asking me is just personal insecurity. I really had to work to get over mine, but I think I did well enough."

"But you know that he did go back, he did try to choose Peggy over me. The means to do that still exists in this world, it can be made to work again. I have no guarantee that he'll decide I'm not good enough, go get that time travel device and just go to another timeline to try and start over with Peggy there. In doing what he did, he let me know that I'm not enough for him."

Daniel frowned and rubbed his chin, and then looked at her. "Have you considered the possibility that he wasn't in his right mind when he did that? That that's not normal behavior for him, and that he only behaved that way under extenuating circumstances? What does he have to say for himself?"

"Peggy sent him back," she said. "He didn't choose to come back himself. He didn't choose to come back to me."

"Don't be so sure about that," said Daniel. "He may not have told you, but when he pushed the button to come back to this timeline, he was already thinking about you, eager to see you. Once he understood that Peggy had her own life and that she was not going to fill the void in his, he started to come back to his senses and realized who could. You. He's been here helping your family, trying to make things right with you, in the only way he knows how. And you'll never know how he truly feels about you unless you take the chance and tell him how you feel about him."

"And if he doesn't feel the same?" she asked.

"Well you won't die," said Daniel with a half-smile. "But consider that Peggy told you not to push him away, and not let him do the same. And if Peggy loved him the way she did it, that he was a man worthy of that love. He's human, he makes pretty big mistakes, but at heart, would you say he is noble and good?"

"Of course," said Sharon.

"Then you tell him how you feel, and if he doesn't feel the same he lets you down gently as you did to him in the hallway that time he offered his washing machine, or you open the door for him to admit that he loves you too, and you move forward. But don't hesitate on it. The two of you have the benefit of extra time and second chances at life, something most people don't get. I had to take my chances with Peggy and I don't regret it. Sure I had times when I worried that she missed Steve more than she loved me, but mostly it was my own insecurity talking. She loved me, I know she did, and I loved her. Our lives would have been so different and empty without each other."

Sharon smiled, feeling the heart warming sensation at her uncle's words. She had known how much her aunt and uncle had loved each other. Perhaps Peggy had loved Daniel differently than Steve, but it had not been any less strong or true. As she looked at him, she could see what Peggy must've seen, something that Daniel took years to see in himself. He was handsome, smart and upright. He had a sarcastic and witty sense of humor, had been a brave soldier and warrior for justice. Far too many people had underestimated him because of the loss of his right leg, and had not taken him seriously, often to their own detriment. But it had not stopped him from rising to the ranks of the SSR, a competent and capable agent in his own right, independent of Peggy, but was a partner for her both on the job and personally. He was not a consolation prize either, nor was he second to anyone. Peggy had chosen wisely.

As this realization spread through her mind, Daniel smiled, seeing the lightbulb go over her head.

"I think you're getting it now, kiddo," he said. "Wish we could have another game of chess, but I never did find that missing queen that somebody lost."

"You're not still mad about that, are you?" asked Sharon. "I did try to find it. I still think it's under a dresser somewhere."

Daniel laughed. "Don't worry about it, my time here is up anyway. Just remember what I said. You're nobody's second, as you told him, nor was I, but don't assume that that's how he thinks of you. Ask him."

Sharon nodded, looking down at her hands. "Love you, Uncle Dan."

But when she looked up, the chair was empty, and the strange glow that had filled the area was gone. But then she heard the ethereal whisper, as if it was moving off into the distance,_ 'love you too, ace.'_ And then there was nothing but silence.

000

Steve was dreaming, dreaming that he was at a train station, circa 1940s sometime. He was standing on the platform, and the train whistle sounded, as crowds of people boarded the train. He wondered if he was supposed to board the train as well, but felt a strange repulsion, as if he knew he was not to take any step towards the train. Besides he didn't have a ticket. A conductor yelled "all aboard!" and the platform cleared as a train began to move. Then Steve heard someone calling his name. He looked up and was shocked to see Natasha hanging out of one of the windows, smiling and waving goodbye to him.

"Nat?" He called, slowly waving goodbye.

Then he heard Peggy's familiar voice, and he turned his head and saw her leaning out the window as well, waving to him. Behind her waved a man he knew to be Daniel Sousa, smiling. At another window where the Commandos, and further along the train were many others he recognized, his parents, Colonel Phillips, people who had died on missions, and even some he didn't recognize but who were waving to him anyway. He felt a sense of sadness, understanding that he was watching them depart, but he felt an odd sense of peace as well. They all looked so happy, no longer suffering, no longer facing the many tragedies of the world that so many of them he knew had suffered.

"Take care of my girl!" called Peggy, blowing him a kiss. But before he could respond, the train disappeared into the heavy fog in the distance. He wondered if he should follow it, or where he should go at all, when he suddenly became aware that someone was crying. It sounded familiar, as if he should recognize the voice, and he wondered who it could be. Then suddenly he recognized it. Sharon!

He startled awake, coming to on the futon in the darkened room. Sharon was sitting up, her legs swung over the side of the bed, her head dropped into her hands. He said up quickly, and moved over beside her, draping an arm around her.

"Sharon, what's wrong? Are you OK? Bad dream?"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice slightly odd. "Go back to sleep."

"You're not fine," he said reaching over to switch on the small lamp by the futon. Once there was some light, he slowly turned her head towards him and looked into her eyes. They were filled with tears.

"What happened? Please tell me," he said.

"You left," she said.

He was confused. Left? To go back to New York? "Well, yeah. I told you I had to go deal with Wanda and the apartment. But I came back. Just like I said I would. It didn't seem that you weren't OK with that. I wouldn't have left if I thought it would upset you. You seemed pretty happy earlier. What happened?"

"No, I mean you left, before. You left me. Why?" she asked.

Steve felt cold. He knew she was still upset about what he had done, but it seemed clear that he had not made as much progress as he thought in trying to wipe away her hurt. Tears sprang to his eyes and he pulled her in for a tight hug.

"Oh Sharon. I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot, that's why. I was depressed to the point of simply not thinking. I was desperate, and lonely. For five years you were gone, I thought I had lost you forever, and then when everyone was brought back, I told myself it was for the best. After the Blip, I went back to the apartment, and saw you were gone. I dropped to the ground and cried for two hours. I gathered up all your stuff and left, and I felt so hollow, really strange, like I was disconnected from the whole thing. Sam called it dissociation. I thought I learn to get over it in the five years, but I didn't. I just wanted to go back to the way things had been. And I kept going back and back until the only thing I could focus on was Peggy. I know now how wrong that was. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

She hugged him back. "I shouldn't keep bringing it up making you feel like you have to keep apologizing. I just don't know under what circumstances you'll leave again."

He held her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away just enough to look into her eyes. "Never. I promise, I'm never going to do that again. I'll stay as long as you want me to, until you tell me to go."

"Until the houses are finished?" she asked.

"Longer if you need me to. I'll stay as long as you need me to. This is the first place I've felt like I was part of something, since the Avengers broke up. I once told Tony in a letter that I never really felt like I fit in anywhere, not even the army. Especially the army. Only with the Commandos did I ever feel like I fit in anywhere with the war. The Avengers were the first place I felt like I belonged in the 21st-century, but then they were gone. And for five years, they were really gone, and so were you. Being here with your family makes me feel like I belong somewhere, even though I know I'm not part of the family."

"You do fit in here," she said. "They missed you while you were gone this week. I...I did too."

He smiled. "I missed them. And you. I thought being around them would be difficult, because in so many ways they remind me of Peggy. Cathy looks like her, Ed contemplates like her, Jude is figuring out puzzles like her, and Hannah is feminine like her. You're like her too in some ways, but truthfully I like the ways you are different. You look different, you sound different, and you approach the world differently. You and everyone have a pretty strong sense of justice and right and wrong, but I think that is more about having been raised by her than anything else. I'm glad you're different, though, because what's different about you is what I love about you."

Her head snapped up and she locked eyes with him. "Love?"

He realized his flub, and looked sheepish. "Well, yeah. I realize you probably don't want to hear it, at least not now, but I do love you. I didn't realize at first that I even did. Or how much. And it's gotten stronger since I have been here with you. You don't have to feel the same way or say it back, but I'd rather you know, not like before. I love you. I love you for you. And the thought of being without you, well...it hurts. A lot."

Her first impulse was to draw back, recoil and protect herself. She knew that she loved him, but she had not been prepared to have him say it first. But she knew the ball was now in her court. How she answered him would determine a good deal of her future, and it was up to her as to how brave she was going to be about it. Briefly, she considered drawing back and pretending that it was only one sided, protecting herself in the event that he left again. But that's not what she wanted to do. She wanted to love him, and she wanted him to know it.

"I…I love you too, Steve," she made herself blurt out before she lost her nerve.

His eyes widened in surprise. "You...you do? Even after everything?"

She shrugged and said, "I suppose if you think about it, we're really no different than two people in a situation where someone may have been married before and their spouse died. It would seem like the second spouse would always wonder if they were being compared to the first. I know that's how Uncle Daniel and Aunt Peggy approached it. Peggy did what she could every day to let him know that he was the only one for her, once she had chosen him. But he had his doubts."

Steve's shoulders slumped. "I wish there could have been some way I could have taken that from him, the insecurity. Peggy didn't love arbitrarily. If she loved him, then he deserved it. And that's what I'll do with you, if you'll let me. I don't know what I have to do to show you that you're the only one for me now, but I imagine I'll have fun trying."

To her surprise, Sharon laughed softly and he smiled at her. "I suppose we'll just have to figure it out," she said. "But don't feel like there has to be heavy machinery involved each time."

He laughed and nodded, and their eyes locked. Then both of them felt something shift between them, a wall coming crumbling down that they had both put up to heal from each other's hurt. She had kept him at a distance physically, not daring to give in to the attraction she felt for him, knowing that to do so would confirm that she was in love with him. But now, she wanted that barrier cast aside. Maybe she was setting herself up for hurt again, but she couldn't continue to live pretending anymore. Before either of them knew it, they were leaning in and kissing. Steve felt his heart flow with warmth, something he had not experienced in so long that he couldn't remember the last time. It was love. He loved her. And it had taken all this time for his hard head to figure it out. He had already wasted so much of the extra time he had been given, he was determined not to waste anymore.

He gently pushed her backwards onto her back on the futon and settled over her, kissing her gently. He was determined not to rush things, to spend time actually learning her, appreciating her. Always before, their makeout sessions and one time having sex had been rushed or abbreviated. Whatever ended up happening this time, he was determined to take it much slower. And to not push her past any boundaries she was not prepared to cross yet. But up to the point where she told him to stop, he intended to show her how much he valued her, loved her.

His lips moved to her neck and she groaned, turning her head to give him better access. She was starting to rush as she usually did, her hands running faster up and down his back, as if urging him to hurry. But he was having none of that. He gently reached up and grabbed her hands and pinned them to either side of her head, kissing her soundly. He intended to take his time with her, she wasn't going to rush him. She smiled slightly in surprise, and then acquiesced to his slower pace. She knew that if she did not put on the brakes now, they would probably not stop, and the nagging voice in the back of her head wondered if maybe this was not the wisest choice. But deciding that she was tired of being afraid, she relaxed under him and let him proceed. The truth was, she had wanted this quite badly for some time. And it seemed like everything and everyone around her was pushing her to stop being afraid, so she decided that, no matter what happened after tonight, she was going to, just this once, not be afraid.

She leaned up into him and kissed him back firmly, shifting under him in such a way as to leave no doubt that she was on board with whatever was going to happen next. He whimpered slightly in the back of his throat, clearly trying to keep some measure of control. She could feel his eagerness pressing firmly into her belly, and there was an answering jolt in her core at the sensation. For several minutes, they just kissed and allowed their hands to wander all over each other. They were already familiar with how the other felt with no clothes, but this time, they both took their time to explore. Steve alternated between kissing her mouth, her face, then her neck, slowly letting his hands wander down to her midriff, and began slowly pushing her shirt up. They rolled to the slide so he could pull it all the way off, and she helped him off with his. When he rolled back on top of her, though, the sensation of her bare skin against his almost made him lose it and he fought the urge to take her right then. But he forced the urge back down, though now his hands caressed her bare torso and breasts as her own wandered across his chest, back and biceps.

He was growing harder and she felt his erection straining his shorts. She hesitated a moment, knowing that to proceed was basically to mean no turning back, but then, resolved, she let her hands wander further down and hooked her thumbs into his waistband, pushing them down. He broke the kiss and looked down into her eyes.

"Is this what you want?" he asked.

"Yes," she said firmly. "Yes it is. You?"

He pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel his hardness. "Most definitely. But I'm only going forward if you're sure this is what you want."

"I'm sure," she said, leaning up to kiss him again.

Biting back a growl, he rolled to the side again to shuck off the remainder of his clothes and help her out of the rest of hers. He waited until she nudged and pulled him back on top before moving back on top of her and settling between her legs. He tried to take his time, though it was becoming progressively more difficult with her heavy breathing in his ear and her eager hips rising to meet his. He pushed in gently, slowly, letting her feel him, determined to take this much more slowly than their last time, which had been rushed and frenzied. She tried to urge him faster and deeper, but he gently held her shoulders down, not forcing her, but demonstrating his strength and determination to take this gently, and slowly pushed in until he settled all the way inside. She tossed her head back and sucked in gulps of air. He gritted his teeth fighting for control, trying not to let go right there at the tight hot sensation of her surrounding him. He held still for a moment, just feeling her and letting her feel him, not just at the point of their joining, but also skin against skin, breath on each other, and then lips against lips.

He kissed her deeply, feeling an overwhelming pouring of emotion flow through him. It threatened to overwhelm him, nearly brought him to tears at the strength of what he felt for this woman. He tried to convey it in how he kissed her and caressed her. And she was responding in kind. Where before their joining had been about a satisfying a physical need and the need to quell overwhelming emotions, this time it was about reveling in those emotions. She answered him back with deep, emotional kisses of her own, and she angled her hips to take him deeper. Then he began to move. She broke the kiss and turned her head to the side, gulping for air as the sensation of his glide in and out overwhelmed her. Steve dropped his face to her shoulder, trying to control his own breathing, not at all certain how long he was going to last. This time was much different from the first, much better, deeper and stronger. He was determined to hold out as long as possible. But as she got hotter and wetter, he knew he would be lucky to last long enough for her to find completion.

Thankfully, he didn't have long to wait. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries of ecstasy as she crashed over the cliff. He tried to hold off long enough to let her ride it out, but he was already too far gone and the rhythmic squeeze of her inner muscles was too much. Sharon felt one or two tentative spurts, and then the spreading warmth of his release and his groan of happiness in her ear. She climaxed a second time with him and his mouth found hers, kissing her deeply. Even after he finished and she started to relax, they kept kissing and stroking each other until he finally pulled away and looked down at her, though he didn't pull out.

"Wow," was all he could manage to choke out. She laughed a genuine laugh, and he realized how long it had been since he had heard the sound of her unrestrained laugh. He loved that sound.

"Wow indeed," she replied, kissing the tip of his nose. He kissed her lips. Then he gently rolled to the slide, pulling her with him, finally starting to relax. Both of them felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off their shoulders, knowing that the huge emotional barrier that had been put up between them was finally starting to come down. There were still a lot of discussions that needed to be had and much to be said, but simply acknowledging that they truly did love each other was a major first step. They struggled together in a warm cocoon of blankets, drifting off to sleep.

Sharon woke a few hours later to the sunlight streaming through the small window, gently illuminating the room and the birds chirping outside as the day began. She rolled over on her side, wondering at the events of the night before that had finally brought her and Steve together. She thought about her conversation with Daniel, in the light of day figuring that it must have just been a vivid dream. However, it was particularly well-timed. She wasn't entirely sure she'd had gone through making love to Steve, for it had been far more than just sex, if that dream had not happened. She's slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes and figuring to gather her clothes and get to the bathroom before Steve awoke. Then her eyes fell on something in the middle of the room, where the moonlight had fallen the night before, but was now illuminated by a single ray of sunshine.

The desk chair, normally parked in the far corner of the room, was still sitting in the middle of the floor, the back turned as if someone had sat in it backwards.

0000

They weren't sure how much to tell her family. They knew that the family accepted Steve as he was, but were a little insecure about accepting him as a romantic partner to Sharon. There was no denying that there was still the history of Steve's past with Peggy to consider, but Sharon had a sneaking suspicion that they would mostly be pleased, particularly Cathy who couldn't seem to stop smirking anytime there appeared to be some sort of romantic development between the two of them. But that first morning, before they went upstairs from the basement, they had a brief discussion about how to handle the family, which involved attempting to determine what they were to each other.

They were clearly more than friends, but where they a romantic item? Neither was willing to answer no to that question, but it opened a long hallway of possibilities that neither one of them was sure of. Ultimately, it was Steve who suggested that they simply not hide, and determine the full extent of their relationship after they had explored it a bit more. Everything was still so new, that it was perhaps a little premature to try and define what they had, especially after their previous failed attempts, though both acknowledged that they had been different people five years ago. The closest either of them could agree upon what to call their relationship with simply "dating." Dating with the option for a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship in the near future. And apparently sleeping together, both literally and figuratively.

They were later than usual coming up into the kitchen from the basement that morning. Sharon had opted not to tell Steve about the vision of her late uncle, sensing that it was perhaps something meant for her only at this point in time. Maybe she would tell him someday, but not today. They came up into the kitchen, as put together as they could possibly be, to find that the adults were already going out the door to their respective jobs, except for Cathy who was attempting to get the kids fed and ready to go so that she could drop them off on her way to teach a morning class at the yoga studio. There was a lot of commotion, with Cathy urging the kids to hurry, complaints that they couldn't find homework, shoes, backpacks, and lunches weren't made. Sharon and Steve immediately jumped in to begin making lunches, pulling bread and fixings out of the refrigerator and lining everything up on the counter in an orderly fashion. Steve delt lunch meat onto bread like he was dealing cards, and Sharon tore open a bag of potato chips to pour into Ziploc bags and throw juice boxes and bottles of water into book bags

"I'm never going to make it to my class on time," Cathy grumbled. "And Hannah still hasn't gathered the eggs from the chickens yet."

"Or milked the goats yet," said Hannah coming into the kitchen wearing one shoe and trying to pull a sweater over her head.

"I'll get the chickens and the goats," said Sharon.

"And I'll drive the kids to call school," said Steve. "Cath, you'll never make it at this rate. If you leave now you can still make it for your class. I can drive the kids."

"What about the cabinets?" asked Cathy. "The carpenter is supposed to come about the cabinets."

"I'll be here," said Sharon. "If I scarf down some breakfast now, I can get the chickens and the goats before he gets here."

Sharon yanked open the freezer door and rummaged inside. "Where are all the egg bites?" she asked. She had developed a taste for Starbucks egg bites, but had balked at the expense so often, and so through trial and error with the eggs that Cathy's chickens were now laying, she had managed to perfect a recipe for the breakfast concoctions that could be made in large batches and frozen. Easily microwavable, they made for a quick and filling breakfast for the entire family. And it did something with all the insane amount of eggs they were hoarding in the refrigerator.

"I ate the last," said Dan sheepishly.

Sharon looked at the kid. "There were eight in there."

"Yeah, they're popular for breakfast," said the teenager shrugging.

"Did you also drink all the orange juice?" asked Steve, bending over into the refrigerator looking for the carton.

"Um, yeah," said Dan.

Sharon turned around to ask Steve to look in the freezer for the last of the Eggo waffles, and was treated to the sight of his perfect backside bent over as he rummaged through the refrigerator for some eggs. Swallowing hard, she tried to turn away, but not before he straightened up and caught her staring at his ass. He quirked a slight knowing smile in her direction and then they both quickly turned away to avoid giving themselves away. But perhaps a little too late. Cathy had caught the exchange, and had narrowed her eyes in their direction.

"Everything OK with you two?" she asked. "You both seem a little off this morning."

Sharon bit her lip, and hesitated before answering. Cathy was way too perceptive for her own good and would probably know if anyone tried to deflect the question, but this was not a conversation Sharon felt like having in front of the kids. Nor could she actually really tell the truth, which might involve the words "_no I'm not OK, I talked to the ghost of your long dead father who encouraged me to begin a relationship with a man who once dated your mother, and we spent the night screwing like rabbits, leading to some of the best orgasms of my life, and now we're trying to figure out if we are in a long-term relationship or not."_

"We are just worn out, Cathy," said Steve coming to her rescue, and actually sounding a tad weary. "These last few months have been a whirlwind for everybody. Maybe what we all need is a break. It's only about an hour and a half to the coast, for example. Maybe a day at the beach?"

All of the kids enthusiastically agreed, and even Sharon had to admit that the suggestion sounded pretty nice. Sharon wasn't entirely sure her cousin would buy the deflection, but she seem to, given that she was in a hurry, and accepted Steve's offer to drive the kids to school. Giving everyone hugs, she rushed out to make her class, and Steve rounded all the kids into Sharon's new SUV to bring them to two different schools. Once the house was empty, Sharon said about cleaning up the breakfast dishes and kitchen, and making another batch of egg bites for the family. And now that she had some peace and quiet, she finally had time to think.

Last night with Steve had been wonderful, it had been how she had wanted to be with him from the start. Last night, neither one of them had held back their emotions. And it had been frighteningly powerful. Sharon had been in relationships before, but none that felt like this. It had made her heart soar to hear him say that he loved her, and to be able to tell him the same right back. But admitting that they loved each other did not necessarily mean that everything was going to work out. It was going to take effort on both of their parts. But there would be no more keeping him at arms' length.

She finished cleaning the kitchen and set about making a new batch of egg bites for breakfast in the coming week, then, as they cooked in the oven, she went to gather eggs from the chickens and milk the goats. Once the chores and the egg bites were done, she headed back down to the back gate to let the interior crew in to work on the inside of Cathy's house. Steve met her at the site, having returned from dropping off the kids. She was suddenly struck by how much of a relief it had been to have him here, most days but especially this morning, with everyone running around and so much to do.

For his part, Steve was having a hard time focusing on helping the crew install the interior walls. If all went well today, all of the walls and wiring for the house would be done, which would justify him and Sharon spending the afternoon beginning the framing on her tiny house. Simply put there was a lot of work to do, but his mind was not focused on building houses today. After he had dropped the children off at their respective schools and had started back towards the estate, having the car to himself had meant that he had been able to think for the first time in a long time uninterrupted. He had begun to consider his long-term future, probably for the first time in years really, and what he was going to do with himself. The split from the Avengers and deceiving them had not involved a plan in his mind more beyond the first year or so. But now, as they were beginning to talk to him less and less and text him less frequently, he knew that eventually they would move on without him, and he was going to have to think what his long-term future would hold.

When he came down here to help Sharon's family build the houses, he had not thought much beyond what would come after they were completed. But now that Cathy's house was almost done, and Sharon's house would take only a fraction of the time in comparison, he began to think about what he would do once he was no longer needed here for these particular projects. His initial plan had been to move back to Brooklyn and to pretend to be an old man while doing whatever he felt like doing, but after last night, the thought of leaving here to go back to his lonely apartment in New York while Sharon remained here was so painful that it actually almost doubled him over.

Leave? How could he leave? His home was here now, he now understood. And he realized that it was not just because he had grown to love Peggy's family, and he was certain they had grown to care for him as well, but being without Sharon was a thought that was too painful to entertain. He remembered well the pain of finding her hideout apartment empty and dust on the floor indicating she had been one of the dusted. He had collapsed on the floor and had cried like a baby. It had surprised him at the time, considering they were on the outs and he figured he would probably not see her again anyway, but at least he would have known that she was alive somewhere in the world. Knowing that she was dead had been as painful as the day of Peggy's funeral. In the years that followed, he had retreated from that pain, dissociating from it, and from Sharon herself. But now, here they were, fully immersed in each other, more so than before because he was allowing himself to feel real emotion towards her, and her for him he suspected, so how could he walk away from that? He loved her. He had told her so the night before, and he had meant it.

That realization hit him so hard he had to pull the car over and take a few deep breaths. The fog that had enveloped his brain on the subject suddenly cleared, and probably for the first time in his life he had a true moment of clarity, seeing the situation for what it was. Yes. He did love her. Not only was he *in* love with her, he flat out loved her. He loved her sharp and witty sense of humor, her sardonic wit, and her fierce intelligence. He loved how she was loyal to her family, and to her friends, including him when he had not always deserved it. He loved her determination, how she had rebuilt her life and career twice after the loss of S.H.I.E.L.D., and then being kicked out of the CIA. How she had thrown herself into helping the family she had not been particularly close with before. How loyal and caring she had been to Peggy in her final years. Her fierce loyalty and obvious love for her deceased uncle Daniel. And how he was pretty sure she would dismember someone limb from limb slowly if they so much as look at her cousins' children in a way she didn't like. He loved how she accepted him, but didn't put up with his crap. She didn't pander to him, tell him that something was OK when it wasn't, made him see things he didn't see for himself right away. In addition to all that, he thought she was absolutely beautiful. He loved the way the sun shone through her blonde hair, highlighting it with streaks and reflecting in her eyes. Her smile, her laugh, all of these things brightened his day, no matter what kind of day he was having. Anytime he thought of some sort of idea or heard some sort of good news, she was the first person he wanted to tell. When something was bothering him, her name was the first one that flashed in his mind to seek out for solace.

But perhaps in addition to all of these features about her that he loved, the factor that let him know he was truly in love with her, for real, with the fact that he recognized her flaws and accepted her anyway, just as she seemed to be doing with him. She was a little too quick to anger, her temper had been a surprise to him, after the two years of knowing her as the good-natured nurse next-door. Given the times in which she had grown up, she was far too jaded for her own good, prone to cynicism, though she often cloaked it in humor, and she was one of the few people who could coax a real laugh out of him. Perhaps he was too much of an optimist, but he truly wished that she could see more good in the world than she did. Her propensity to jump to a judgment and take action without completely thinking every aspect through was a weakness, although it had not gotten her killed yet. And he was learning, she was slow to forgive, and probably would never forget. Every bit of progress he had made with her in rectifying his terrible mistake had been fought for and earned. He could actually list many flaws about her that made her human, but found that they did nothing to cool his desire for her. He loved her just the way she was. And, he now knew, she had accepted him for who he was, not who he had tried to be. As her aunt before her had, she loved Steve Rogers, not Captain America.

When he finally got the car moving again and pulled up to the house, knowing that they had a place to themselves, despite the work they had to do, had him suddenly experiencing a raging hard on. He wanted her fiercely, and now. But he forced himself to get himself under control. Despite what happened last night, he had to make sure that everything was still OK between them before even thinking about doing it again. And he hoped they *would* be doing it again. But it's simply couldn't happen now, not with the chores to do and the crew coming. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he got out and went to find her down at the worksite. When he found her talking to the foreman about double checking the wiring before putting up the last of the sheet rock, it was all he could do to keep from dragging her away back to the basement right there. But he simply smiled and waved to let her know he was there, and then set about going to pound some nails into something.

Two hours later, he was questioning the wisdom of hammering nails as a means to relieve sexual frustration. He had hammered his left thumb twice, and had dropped it on his shoe right on top of his little toe, requiring him to swallow a string of curse words that wanted to come bubbling out. He was also frustrated at the lack of progress in getting the walls up, because he was unable to show off his superior strength in front of the work crew. Ordinarily he could carry five pieces of sheet rock in one trip, but as it was, he had to downplay his strength by carrying a single sheet with Sharon several times. Periodically, he caught her eyes, and could see the same frustrating desire in her own eyes, causing them to quickly look away before they started ripping each other's clothes off right here in front of the poor work crew. At lunch break, they hiked back up to the main house while the crew went to go find some burgers, and they stood in the kitchen chomping down on sandwiches and chips.

"Has this day been is frustrating for you as it's been for me?" she asked.

"I would say you have no idea," he replied, "but something tells me you do."

"So am I correct in assuming what our evening plans will be later?" she asked with a slight smile.

Damnit, there went his erection again. He swallowed hard. "I'm not turning it down, if that's what you want. But we should probably table the discussion for now, or I'm going to have a hard time walking back down to the house."

She glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and one eyebrow quirked up. She smiled slightly. "I won't torture you then," she said. "But if it's any consolation, you're having a similar effect on me. It's just not so obvious."  
With a desperate groan, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her senseless, feeling her go soft in his arms and answer him back. He briefly wondered how it got so hot in the kitchen, as he was starting to sweat, when she reluctantly broke away and they stood there panting.

"We should probably avoid looking at each other like hungry wolves looking at red meat when the rest of the family gets back," she said. "Cathy is far too perceptive for her own good, and Ed's no fool either."

"Agreed," he said. "Though I'm in favor of simply not hiding. But before we do that, we should probably have a long conversation about what we are to each other in the near future."

"I agree," she said finishing off a sandwich and holding out her hand to him to head back down to the worksite.

They opted to work separately for the next two hours until the work at Cathy's house was done and the crew left. Then they headed to Sharon's house site to begin framing the walls of her tiny house. It actually went pretty fast all things considered, given that her house was a fraction of the size of Cathy's, and they had already framed a house before. With Steve not having to hide his strength, they were actually able to get two of the walls up and braced on their own before calling it a day. They hiked back up to the house in time to see Cindy, out looking for them, indicating that dinner was ready. She had made an extra pizza specifically for Steve to eat on his own, and the family sat around chattering excitedly about the progress on Cathy's house and how Sharon's house had been started. It was looking like Cathy's family could move into their house in only a month, just in time for the holidays to start. That got Steve wondering about the holidays and where he would be spending them. He had previously expected to be spending them alone or down at the local VA center back in Brooklyn, though now he wanted to spend it with Sharon and her family, but it also occurred to him that the Avengers might want him to come back to the tower, where they had moved after the upstate complex had been destroyed, and spend at least Thanksgiving or Christmas with them. He was going to have to coordinate with Sharon on that.

Later that night, after the rest of the family had gone to bed, he and Sharon lay breathless in each other's arms, limbs entwined and tangled in the sheets whispering to each other about the upcoming year. He figured on spending Thanksgiving with the Avengers and Christmas back here with Sharon's family. They talked about their relationship and where it could go from here. They talked about their plans for what to do with themselves in the coming years and how they could make the world a better place. Sharon had thought about going to work for Stark Industries, but opted instead to do freelance investigation and intelligence gathering, rendering her services to the Avengers or Stark Inc. when necessary, but giving herself some autonomy. Steve still wanted to write and draw his illustrated memoirs, perhaps a book on World War II, and had thought about becoming a political cartoonist working under a pen name, something he could do from anywhere, including an apartment in Brooklyn, which is what he would tell the Avengers he was now doing with himself. Sharon was enthusiastic about the idea, and encouraged him to send samples of cartoons to various media outlets that might be looking for new content providers. Or he could do an independent web comic, which he also was enthusiastic about. With these futures decided, talk turn to their relationship.

It would take several conversations before they would finally come to terms with the understanding that they loved each other, despite the hurt that had driven them apart. Peggy would always be a factor in both of their lives in different capacities, but Steve had started reading some books about people who moved on after losing a spouse or close significant other, and had found several of the suggestions in the self-help books about learning to love someone else for who they were to be quite helpful. He had found an online counselor who was helping him through some of his issues, though he would never be able to give his true backstory, instead presenting himself as a soldier from the Afghanistan war who had recently lost a wife, but had taken up a new relationship with one of her relatives. He wasn't sure the counselor was going to be able to help him, but over time, he would be surprised to find that many of the sessions were very helpful in helping him overcome his emotions about the war and his personal relationships.

For her part, Sharon also found an online counselor who could help her deal with having been Dusted and having to reform personal relationships and her life. To her counselor, she mentioned the only that she had reconnected with a lover from before the Blip with whom she has had a roller coaster of a relationship, and now that they had progressed as people, wanted to try a more definitive relationship. The sessions helped, and Sharon began to learn to process and come to terms with her own feelings about what had happened to her in the last few years. It made them better people, better for each other, and when they did have disagreements, it didn't progress to the level of fighting that had existed before.

With the interspersed help of the family and construction crews, and the fact that both Sharon and Steve were hyper focused on the project, Sharon's house was done in a month and a half, just in time for Cathy's house to be done, and they moved into Sharon's house, her and Steve, the weekend after the moving party that moved Cathy and her family into their house. Although Ed and Cindy never said so, it was clear that they were relieved to have their house back to themselves, while the children were equally thrilled to have their cousins so close. There were many Saturday evenings spent up at the main house having a communal dinner, or barbecue out on the patio, and when the holidays came around, Steve had to admit that things were far more festive at the Carter estate then had ever been anywhere else in his life. Sharon, Cindy, and Cathy took to decorating the three houses like they were preparing for a visit from Better Homes and Gardens.

Steve had not been sure how he would feel about living in such smaller house, but the inventive ways in which they had sought to save space and make the enclosure feel more open and airy dispelled any feelings of claustrophobia, though his favorite feature of the house was by far the loft bedroom. Aside from the obvious reasons, they had constructed the area to be somewhat open, with floor to ceiling windows on two of the walls and a retractable skylight. Of course, Sharon being Sharon, and Steve being Steve, the windows were bullet proof using material from Stark design, and there were numerous defense systems set up around the perimeter of the house itself. You never knew when the occasional rogue Hydra agent might show up looking for revenge. But the open window feature allowed him and Sharon to lie on the bed and look up at the stars, or wake to the sun rising behind them. Those were the mornings he loved the best, with the sunlight falling on her face and hair as she slept, making him want to gather her in his arms and hold her close, for no reason other than when he did, he felt actual and true peace, maybe for the first time in his life. Where he had never before truly fit in or belong anywhere, not his home in Brooklyn, not the army, and possibly even with the Avengers, here he felt as if he truly did belong.

After moving into the tiny house, Sharon herself began to demonstrate small and softer changes. She was less quick to anger, not so fast to jump to the wrong conclusion. She smiled more, joked more, and he had occasionally caught her humming to herself in the kitchen. They talked about everything and anything, from the state of the world, to how the Avengers were doing, to the shows they watched together on the flatscreen and futon they had moved from the basement to the tiny house living room. During this time, they relearned how to be friends first and lovers second. In fact, the only issues they had living together in such a small space was negotiating work territory, as his digital cartoon and website endeavor required him to have a computer desk set up in one corner, especially now that his web comic and cartoons had been picked up by several online outlets. Sharon needed a space from which to operate her investigative business, and they ended up setting up a small shed as an outdoor office for her. It was a life neither one of them had envisioned only a few years before, certainly not with each other, but both couldn't help but feel that if Peggy could see them, she would be smiling.  
They never completely told the full story of what had happened to the rest of the family, though sometime later, Steve told them an abbreviated version of the story, only that the defeat of Thanos had involved time travel, and that he had gone back in time to retrieve an item from their mother's past and had encountered her. That the only way to get her to allow him to leave with the device was to tell her some version of the truth, including them, to which he admitted having the recording she had made for them. Finally, under those circumstances, they were able to show Peggy's message to the rest of the family, and there were many tears, but smiles as they viewed it multiple times. Once that was done, Steve finally felt that he could put Peggy to rest in his mind.

The months that followed were the happiest ones in his life, even if it meant sitting out when Sharon occasionally left to go on freelance missions. He realized now how nearly impossible it would have been for him to do the same thing in Peggy's time, knowing the great world events that would be coming, and how he would be required to hide away from them and not take action. Then, one morning, as he stirred next to Sharon, feeling her bare skin against his, and still feeling somewhat tired from the night's activities before, he became aware that Sharon's phone was buzzing on the nightstand next to her. Shaking her awake, she rolled over and looked at the caller ID on the front. Her eyes widened and she frowned.

"Who is it?" he asked sitting up.

"It's Sam," she said staring at the phone in her hand. "I thought they were still in Europe? And why would he be calling me?"

"They are still in Europe," he said. "And I don't know. Better answer, before he comes looking for you."

Motioning for him to be quiet and not give away that he was there, she answered the phone.

"Sam?" she asked.

"Sharon. I'm glad I caught you," came Sam Wilson's voice over the speaker. "Bucky and me, we need your help. Zemo has escaped."

The End

000

**FINAL NOTE: I have no idea how Sharon will be introduced into the "Falcon and Winter Soldier" series, only that, as of this writing, they are about 85% certain that Sharon and Zemo will indeed appear. I can only hope my ending is not in conflict with how Sharon will once again come back into the MCU, but no doubt, it will be fun to watch when it happens. Peace out for now, all.**


End file.
